Wild Ride
by grayturtle
Summary: Ponyboy's older. The trip he takes is only the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

_Yay! I present to you my very first fanfiction EVER! Hopefully you enjoy it! It's just a random idea that sort of came into my head… oh well, I hope you'll review!_

 _I do not own The Outsiders._

 _..._

The booze leaves a warm happy feeling in my head, like it really is in the clouds. I think of Darry and know I look all wrong with the goofy grin I'm sure I have on my face.

I know very well that Darry's going to kill me. I wasn't even supposed to be out tonight, let alone drinking my head off. With the guys he had explicitly told me to stay away from at that. But the booze diminishes those worries, leaving me to have fun. And that's exactly what I do.

I find myself laughing at everything, courtesy of the drinks. The bag of M&Ms Lewis Clarke tries to open that end up scattered on the sidewalk. Daniel Smith as he stumbles over his own feet. Chris Lowell as he flips off passing cars, laughing every time and having the time of his life.

Clarke has to keep a firm grip on my elbow so that I don't topple over. He tells me my alcohol tolerance is embarrassing - three drinks had sent me over the moon. I don't mention to him that I haven't touched a beer in more than three years. Instead I burst out into a fit of loud guffaws.

"Never thought I'd see it," Smith slurs, grinning at me. "Ponyboy Curtis is absolutely totaled. Wonder what his brothers will think."

I nearly trip again, this time catching myself. "Don't tell them," is all I manage to him. Smith gives me the thumbs up. He isn't exactly sober himself - six beers and he had been gone.

I think back to Smith's car abandoned in the road by the bar. Every single one of us had been too tipsy to drive it.

"I'll just come back and - and - get it tomorrow." Smith had said drowsily while he leaned heavily on the hood, unable to hold himself up.

Clarke then stepped up and laid a sluggish punch to his shoulder. "Sides, it's a nice car anyways, Smithie. Don't want anyone pukin their guts out in it."

So we trip down the road in the pitch dark without a ride. We should be worried about socs catching us without a single switchblade, or at least the fuzz finding us while we were drunk. But the booze had washed every worry away. I'm all bubbly, and the ground is spinning. Since when did the ground spin like that?

I shrug it off. Maybe I'd find out later, when the cloud that's in my brain clears out. Right now I need to focus on getting home.

...

"I have a tip for you," Lowell says just as we approach the house. He's the least drunk out of all of us. Hence the tolerance he's always bragged about. "Just let him yell. Cause oh, he will be yelling when he sees this mess." Lowell knows Darry because his brother used to play football with him.

I nearly fall over the curb when we near it. Smith grabs me by the forearm before I hit the ground, though. "Huh?" I mutter.

Lowell only grins at me maliciously. "Oh, are you in for it. You do know that your big brother is in there, up on his high horse waiting for you to get home right? And you'd better believe he's gonna come crashing down. Hard."

I don't laugh. Suddenly I feel cold, freezing cold. The wind is whipping right through my t shirt. I realize for the first time that I'm not wearing any jacket. The booze has started to wear off, and suddenly I feel nauseous. I'd forgotten all about Darry.

"Oh," is all I have to say. I sling open the gate then glance nervously back at Lowell. He's wearing a smug smile but his eyes shine with pity.

"Good luck, kid." he says and ambles away alongside Smith and Clarke.

…

I almost hate Lowell for leaving me at Darry's mercy. He was right in saying that Darry would be mad - in fact that's an understatement.

I have to walk slow to make sure I don't trip over the door on my way in. My big brother is there alright. I find him standing next to the phone. He looks as though he wants to pick it up and call someone, but he's hesitant. I realize with regret that Soda is nowhere to be seen. My only hope.

The door slams shut with much more force than I had intended. Darry's head shoots up immediately at the noise. I don't think I've ever seen him look so mad. Regretfully, I'm reminded of the night bolted off to the park. I wonder if he could ever be angry enough to hit me again.

"What the hell," Darry chides. It's not a question. "Where have you been? It's three in the damn morning. You weren't even supposed to be out. I wasn't home."

I find myself scowling. "I don't need a babysitter. I can handle myself." _Contrary to popular belief…_

"You didn't answer my question." I don't say anything, and Darry wrinkles up his nose. "Is that alcohol?"

I try to muster up a lie and say _no,_ but it's too late. The odds aren't exactly in my favor, either - I know I must reek of beer. So I stay silent. I can feel the warm and happy fuzziness of the booze returning. A smile pulls at my lips.

"Are you drunk?" My brother's voice is saying, raising.

" _Drunk_ isn't exactly the word for it," I protest. "I prefer the term _intoxicated."_

"God Ponyboy, when will you learn. I was about to call the police for you, goddammit. You had Soda worried out of his mind. I sent him to bed, he was about to be sick. Pretty soon you're gonna run out of _get out of jail free_ cards." Darry's lethal voice yells.

I look down to the floor - it's spinning in a pleasant circle. Round and round and round. "But I haven't yet have I? I'm fine."

I can't seem to keep my eyes focused on Darry. He floats around the kitchen. "No you're not." his voice shakes with anger. "Get that through your goddamned thick skull will you? You're not invincible - you're gonna realize that sooner or later. Let's not have that be in a hospital bed or in jail, huh?"

He has once again defeated me. I flounder for a moment as I try to find the right words. "I was just having a little fun. Soda's done it before."

 _But when Soda did it mom and dad were here to deal with him, huh?_

Darry grumbles. I think he caught what I meant with my words. Suddenly I feel guilty - I can tell he's tired, that he's been up all night waiting for a phone call or for me to come home.

"Who gave you the beer? Two-Bit?" Darry grills.

"What? No. Not him."

"Then who?"

I hesitate for a moment, knowing Darry will be mad if I tell him I'd been out with Clarke and Smith and Lowell. He's never liked them, always saying that they're a bad influence. "I got it at a bar. _Obviously,_ " I spat at him. "With a few friends of mine. Am I not allowed to have my own friends now? Is that it?"

Darry gets loud again. "You know damn well that's not it. Now lock that door and get your ass in here - it'll be stayin for awhile."

I don't move. "You can't ground me. This is my own problem. Not your's."

Darry guffaws loudly, looking shocked at my statement. Immediately I regret ever saying anything. _Insert foot into mouth._ "Oh, it's not my problem right now is it? But I assure you it'll be my problem when I have to drag you out of the gutter, bail you out of a cell. It'll be all my problem then, won't it?"

Boy oh boy, is Darry pissed. I smile ready to make peace, but Darry takes my smile wrong. "You think this is funny?" he hollers.

I recoil. I can't find anything to say so Darry continues "I bet you wouldn't be laughing if a social worker had been there tonight and seen you. I bet you wouldn't be laughing if you were in a boys home right about now. Would you?"

Ouch. _Once again, big brother Darry takes out Ponyboy in the ultimate knock down._ I stand there for a moment, listening to the sound of my heavy breathing. Then I say quietly "Well then maybe your problem with me would be solved."

I don't wait for Darry to say anything back. Without even looking at him I retreat to the bedroom, feeling tired and disgusted. I plop down onto the bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

…

 _So what do you think? Did I do good? I hope it wasn't too dramatic._

 _So, let's see how many reviews the very first chapter of my very first fanfiction can get!_


	2. Chapter 2

_I managed to pull through and get another chapter up early!_

 _Allow me to clarify a few things from the last chapter - I do owe the amazing author FesityFeist for a lot of the lines I used. I apologize for not giving her credit first hand as I should've._

 _And in response to a guest review - I can only defend one of the three mistakes you pointed out. Soda wasn't technically 'sent' to bed. Remember that it was late - Pony got home at 3 am - and he was stressing and worrying. So Darry told him to get some sleep. The other two errors were just due to my over exaggeratedness._

 _Anyways, thanks for all your reviews! Keep them coming!_

 _..._

All I want to do is sleep.

It must be past noon when I finally get out of bed. I have a massive headache. It feels though my head has it's own heartbeat. I stumble towards the kitchen in search of an aspirin. I'm dizzy, finding it hard to walk without tripping over my own feet.

I can barely recall anything from the night before, but it doesn't take me long for me to remember.

"You're awake," says Soda, taking me by surprise when I come into the kitchen. He sounds stoic. I turn around to face him.

"Yeah, I am. Good morning."

"It's real late."

"I know."

Darry is nowhere to be seen. Guiltily I realize he must've gone to work already. I feel bad that I hadn't been able to say anything to him before he left. Apologize. I know I had been a real asshole last night.

In a flash, it's all coming back to me. Suddenly I feel sick with myself, I want to take back everything.

"Ponyboy -" Soda begins. I can tell he has a lot to say but so do I. I cut him off.

"Listen Soda," I sit down at the kitchen table across from my brother. The quick movement causes my head to pound even more. I suck in my breath. "I'm real sorry. About everythin. I know I screwed up."

The ghost of a smile crosses Soda's face and I know I'd said exactly what he'd been looking for. "You think? Darry was about to have a cow last night. You're just lucky he didn't call the fuzz for you - then you would've been in some real trouble. I hear you're grounded as it is."

I groan and sigh, rubbing my temples to try to ease my headache. It's something I'd seen Darry do before. "I am. I'm grounded big time." I hold back the derogatory comments about my oldest brother that are forming at my tongue.

Soda gets up and starts to mill around the kitchen. "So I figured. But you know what? I can't be too mad atcha. You know well enough that I had my fair share of nights out too." He grins at me. I flashback to the comment I'd made to Darry last night as Soda continues. "Still do. Sometimes."

It's faint, but I can see a look of unease on Soda's face as he talks. I don't say anything in return. Instead I stand up, the kitchen chair slides out from under me. I move towards the cabinet and grab for a glass to fill up under the sink.

Soda smiles at me curiously as I gulp down the water. "Thirsty?" I feel like he's forcing himself to act in a good mood in front of me. Or maybe it's for himself.

I finish off the glass, needing to catch a gulp of air before I can speak again. "Yeah."

He just shakes his head. "My little brother is havin a hangover. Never thought I'd see the day."

 _Well you're living it._

"I'm going back to sleep," I mumble dismissing his comment, heading towards the bedroom. "You can let Darry know I regret everything whenever he gets home."

Soda looks at me thoughtfully. For a split second his cheery façade is gone and I notice he looks a little hurt. "Ok. But I think he'd like to hear that from you."

"Mmhm." I mumble and head off.

In the bedroom, I think about what Soda had said for a moment and find myself groaning. I sink onto the bed ready to curl up and let the mattress soak up my problems. But Soda's words keep me awake. I imagine it must get real annoying for him time after time, always having to put up with me and Darry. And I know that it's no secret I'm the root of the problem.

I chide with myself. _If only you'd stayed home last night._

…

That night Steve crashes in with a six pack and Two-Bit attached to his hip. He holds up the beers above his heads and announces "I got us some drinks!" he nods at me and smirks. "Not for you. Don't think I didn't hear about what you pulled last night, kid."

I guess word gets around. Rolling my eyes at him I scoff "Wasn't gonna ask for any." I try to sound casual even though his words had hit me with cognizance.

Two-Bit hurls something at me from across the room. It hits me on the chest and falls on the floor. As I bend down to grab it up I hear him say "That's for you. I read somewhere they help with stomach aches or somethin. Figured you could use that."

I pick up a roll of NECCO Wafers. Giving Two-Bit a dirty look I retort "Since when do you read?" He only shrugs, grinning.

Sooner or later Soda joins in on the fun and calls a game of poker, breaking out the deck of cards. We all know Soda's a huge cheat when it comes to poker and it's impossible to win against him but that doesn't keep anyone from trying.

Darry's in the midst of making dinner, I had been helping him. Me and him are mostly good now. He knows I'm still pissed about being grounded and I know he's well aware about who I had been out with last night. But we don't say anything, the ever-growing tension between us existing invisibly. It keeps Soda at ease. Besides, the argument will probably blow over by next week. It always does.

Darry had been about to set the table when Soda brings out the poker deck. He glances with annoyance at the cards spread out across the table.

"Just one game," Soda assures him with a guilty smile.

Two-Bit makes a scene of shuffling the deck. Cards fly from his hands to the floor. I watch with amusement as Soda collects his hand and proceeds to slip a few cards into the back pocket of his jeans.

I suddenly realize just how out of place I really feel, even in my own house.

…

"What would you say to a game of Yahtzee?"

I jump, not expecting anyone to be home. Sure enough I see Two-Bit lurking in the doorway carrying a Yahtzee box. I cock an eyebrow at him. "What are you doin here?"

"I thought maybe little-boy-grounded could use some fun," Two-Bit shakes the box at me, the pieces rattling inside.

I don't flinch at Two-Bit's nickname for me. Eyeing the box in his hands I mumble "Sure, why not."

We settle ourselves at the kitchen table and Two-Bit deals out the score cards and dice. "Soda told me about your little stunt the other night," he implores, saying it more as a question. "I just never got to confirm it with the cheese himself. So is it true? You were wasted?"

I grimace. I'd had a hunch that he had come for a reason. Two-Bit has never liked liked Yahtzee.

"Well, that's somewhat of a harsh term for it…" I grumble.

He grins at me, shaking his head. "Darry go off at ya?"

"Oh hell yes. You didn't hear him yellin from your place? I'm under house arrest, can't you tell?"

He ignores my first remark and I feel bad for making it. "Yeah. I can tell. Your door was even locked."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Then how'd you get in?"

Two-Bit shrugs and takes the first roll of the dice. "A hairpin, simple.. My sister leaves them all over the place, you wouldn't believe where I find em."

"Well that's great. If someone ever wants to rob us all they need to get in is a hairpin…" I take the dice for my own and ask "So are you here to tell me I'm a bad boy too? Because you wouldn't the first. And might I remind you that half the time you ain't exactly sober yourself."

Two-Bit grins at me. "Relax. I'm not."

We don't speak for the rest of the game.

…

 _Leave reviews? Pretty please with a cherry on top?_


	3. Chapter 3

_This is a nice_ _ **long**_ _chapter! Enjoy!_

 _..._

Ponyboy POV

I've been a prisoner in my own home for three days. Not that there isn't any action, unfortunately there is. Steve and Two-Bit laze around here all day, always providing some sort of nonsense. And since school's out and there's nothing better to do - I'm in on it.

One afternoon when it's just me and Two-Bit he perks up and quips "You're gonna turn into a coconut, sitting around all day and gettin no sun like this. Superman can't hold you here forever."

 _Oh but he can,_ I think but don't voice it. Instead I just grin at Two-Bit knowing I have a long day ahead of me. "What are you suggesting?"

But I already know. Two-Bit grins slyly at me. "Just a little fun I had in mind."

Two-Bit leads me outside. I feel like a prisoner being bailed out of jail. We decide on seeing a movie without knowing exactly what's playing. The sun beats down, it's hot, even for June. The short walk to the drive in theater just about does me in.

There's a weird feeling building in my gut, the same feeling that I had felt after I'd had all that booze. Only now I know for a fact it's not from being not drunk. But I'm going directly against what Darry had told me, _Stay in the house._ I'm having fun. I know if I get caught, I'll be in even more trouble than I already am. But all of a sudden I think to myself _Who really cares?_

A phrase registers in my head that I need to follow, _Don't get caught._

…

Soda POV

Work at the DX is slow. I stand at the counter ringing up customers while Steve works in the back on cars.

"How's the kid?" he asks me on our lunch break. I look up from my sandwich, surprised that he's at all interested with my brother.

 _My brother..._

"Alright," I say warily, on the lookout for a catch. "Superman still has him grounded.."

Steve catches onto my cautious tone of voice. Defending himself he says "What? Am I not allowed to ask?" He pauses and grins. "He just never seemed like the type of kid to get blitzed." I can't help but notice the smirk on his face.

"I guess everyone does it at some point," I say defiantly. The truth is, I still find it hard to believe myself.

"Yeah. We all know _you_ did. When you was thirteen…"

"No one was home that night," I mutter to him. A smile is tugging at my lips.

Steve snorts. "I thought maybe the kid might've been smart enough to think of that."

"Hey! He's smart. Smarter than you anyways. And it ain't like you didn't do stupid things when you were his age."

Steve holds up his hand in surrender. "Oh, I ain't denyin anything. I know what I did."

"You still have them hubcaps you stole?"

"Every single one," Steve says with a grin.

"Figures," I mutter. "At least you don't use em to fix other people's cars."

"Who says I don't?" Steve quips with a grin. I stare at him with revolt. He shakes his head. "I'm kidding." he says. I still question the truth, though.

I finger with a thread that's coming loose from my DX shirt. "And at least the kid ain't slashin tires like you did."

Steve chews on his lip at the memory. "Now I regret that. Mrs. Edley sure can yell for an old lady."

...

Ponyboy POV

"Wow. Now _that's_ what I call a shitfest."

"Not exactly. I mean, there were some parts…"

Two-Bit just snorts. "Next time, kid, we check what we're seeing before we see it."

I grumble an agreement. The movie hadn't exactly been good - a perfect waste of two hours. Throughout most of it I'd found myself itching to go home, wishing I'd never left the house. Funny, because I've been stuck there for so long.

"When we get back, would you mind making me dinner?" Two-Bit quips offhandedly as he saunters down the road, a hand placed over his stomach. "I ain't ever been so hungry. Must have something to do with bad movies."

I lay a punch to his shoulder. "Absolutely not."

Two-Bit looks like he wants to protest but doesn't say anything.

Just then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around and find myself face to face with Lowell. I gasp, he had scared me. Lowell doesn't say anything, just grins guiltily.

I hesitate, not quite sure if I should be mad at him or not. He had treated me to one of the best nights at my life, but because of him I'm also in some deep shit with Darry.

"Curtis," Lowell greets.

My heart stops racing and I catch my breath. "Lowell," I breath. Two-Bit stops in his tracks, watching me with interest.

Lowell eyes Two-But wearily. "Glad I ran into you," he drawls, not looking away from Two-Bit.

I can tell having Two-Bit around is making Lowell nervous so I turn to him and wave him off. "Go on home, Two-Bit. If Darry comes home tell him I ran off someplace and that you didn't see me go," I grin to myself. "He'll believe that alright."

Two-Bit hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I'm sure."

He shoots me a peace sign then turns to head off. "Cya kid."

I wave to him and go back to facing Lowell. He's short and stocky with dark features, minus his mischievous blue eyes that always seem glint whenever he gets into trouble.

"You didn't have to send him off." he says guiltily.

I shrug. "Yeah I did. I ain't supposed to be out anyways."

"Big brother Darry getcha?" Lowell questions with a grin. He jabs a finger into my gut. I swat him away and roll my eyes at him.

"You could say that."

"Listen Curtis," Lowell starts, cutting to the point. "I've got an aunt down in Miami, right? Older woman, livin it up in an apartment around ten minutes from a real nice beach, right?"

"Sure."

"Yeah well get this. Me and the guys are headin down to see her in a few weeks, for a month right in the middle of the summer. In Miami. _Miami,_ Curtis. Can you imagine?"

I look straight at him. "No," I tell him honestly. Though I feel a ripple of nervous excitement in my chest, already knowing what he's going to ask me.

Lowell grins wide. "Well…"

Suddenly dubbed by fear, I decide to play dumb. "What?"

Lowell looks disheartened by having to take a less dramatic reveal to his big plan. "I was wonderin if you wanted to come along. You know, a road trip."

I let that sink in. _A road trip._ Darry'd never agree to it. I'm already grounded as it is, no way he's letting me travel out of state, hundreds of miles away by car, with guys he already thought were a bad influence. Not a damn chance.

But I have to remind myself that I'm turning seventeen in just under a month. Darry can't hold me back forever…

I look to Lowell, a smile on my face. "Sure. I mean… maybe. I'll think about it." I jut my thumb backwards. "Gotta get approval from the horse's mouth."

Lowell whoops loudly. "Ain't gonna be a trip without you, Curtis. Keepin us from doing all the crazy shit you know well enough that we'll get caught up in."

There it is again, that feeling of excitement in my chest. I'm breaking the rules, rebelling. I decide that I like it.

"You know it."

…

I can't work up the courage to ask Darry to let me go on the trip. Not yet. I spend the next two days skulking around the house, feeling completely useless.

I don't see Lowell, Clark or Smith around at all. Its summer and I don't even have school to keep myself busy with.

Most of the time there's no one home, but I find Soda hanging around more than usual. "Work is slow," he tells me one afternoon while we sit on the couch, trying to beat the summer heat. It's too hot to even step outside for more than five minutes. You'd bake. "But it'll pick up, once everyone gets back from their road trips. Bust up their cars and be needin to take them in to be fixed."

There it is again, a road trip. I think about Lowell's offer.

"Have you ever thought about a road trip?" I ask my brother offhandedly. He looks at me curiously. I don't think he had been expecting the question.

"Nah. Why, have you?"

I grin at him. "Maybe. But I can't. I might as well be tied to a chair thanks to Darry."

Soda chews his lip, looking at me thoughtfully. "You know he's only tryin to protect you. I get it's annoying. But you're his kid brother and he just doesn't wanna see you grow up."

I roll my eyes but feel a pit is forming in my stomach. "So maybe I am. You did too and Darry didn't seem to have a problem with it."

"It was different with me," Soda says dryly. I get what he means, mom and dad had been there. The pit in my stomach grows.

When I don't say anything else my brother adds with a grin, "Besides, everyone sort of expected it all when it came to me."

"I don't regret doin it." I grumble.

I immediately wish that I hadn't opened my big mouth. Soda looks at me intently. "What?"

 _Too late to take anything back._ "Last week, the drinks. I don't regret having them. I had fun that night..." my voice trails. I know I sound like a stubborn jackass, but I can't stop myself.

"You ought to be a little sorry. Darry's sorry." Soda tries to reason with me but I'm not having it.

"Didn't stop him from grounding me."

"He had to do something."

I stop myself from saying anything else. The silence between me and Soda grows. I hate the pain rising up in my chest, feeling bad for making Soda mad. But at the same time, I don't.

Suddenly the feeling that I'd felt yesterday makes sense, because I'm feeling it again. Stand up, be defiant…

Soda scoots closer to me and instinctively I scoot away. He looks hurt. "Ponyboy, Darry assumed the worse. What with what you've pulled before. He was drivin himself mad worrying about you."

 _Always about what Darry feels…_ I think but don't say anything. I feel like I'm going to puke. Out of anger with myself and everyone else.

I stand up before the argument can get worse. "I'm gonna go take a nap," I announce and retreat to the bedroom. "...just tired."

I leave, only looking back at Soda once. I expect him to look angry. Instead, I see him sad and confused.

I feel like wrapping my head up against the wall and yelling _What have I done?_

…

 _Too cheesy? Too dramatic? Gee, I hope not. This story is coming along slowly… but there's some action in the next chapter, muahaha._

 _Also thank you_ _ **all so so much**_ _for reviewing! I'm making it my goal to get 5 reviews per chapter, and by telling me what you think you can help me reach that goal! Thank you_ _ **so so**_ _much again it really means a lot! Also just ask and I'll gladly review your stories in return!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Another lightning fast update! Though don't expect them to keep coming like this - I won't be able to update until around the 14th after this because I have lots of tests coming up in school. Two big ones this week and a few next week. But then I am on spring break!_

 _Thank you to_ _ **fourtyfor, One Wing In The Fire, HappierThanMost, BlondeMess, Arsosah, CriminalOutsider'sGirl14,**_ _any any others for the fantastic reviews! Keep them coming, they mean a lot!_

 _..._

Ponyboy POV

I wake up to a tapping sound coming from outside. I can barely make out the noise through a swirl of thoughts that's clouding my brain. I try to ignore the sound and get back to sleep; I convince myself it's a tree branch.

But the tapping only gets louder. Deciding to check it out, I stumble up from my covers and look out the window.

I find myself eye to eye with Clarke. He stops banging on the window to grin at me.

Shocked out of consternation, I scream "Holy shit!" Clarke's eyes widen. He puts an anxious finger to his lips, telling me to shut up. _Open the window_ he mouths.

With shaky hands I shove the window open. The sounds of crickets and passing cars fill the bedroom. Clarke smiles at me. "Hey Curtis. Didn't scare ya did I?"

"Let me think," I hiss, talking in a harsh whisper. "Well.. you woke me up by banging on my window in the middle of the night…"

"Actually it's early in the morning. Two AM to be exact," Clarke informs me. I give him the finger.

"What the hell are you doing here."

"It's the night before we go to Miami," Clarke tells me. He gestures behind him. "Me and the guys thought that we'd enjoy our last night in beautiful, beautiful Tulsa. We ain't gonna be back for a month, right? Whaddya say Curtis? You in?"

My heart drops. The Miami trip is tomorrow; I'd waited too long. I'm about to tell Clarke that I can't go - that I'm busy this summer - but my conversation with Lowell flashes back into my head.

 _"Ain't gonna be a trip without you, Curtis. Keepin us from doing all the crazy shit you know well enough that we'll get caught up in."_

Well...

I reflect on all that's happened in the past week. Everything had started out with me getting drunk that night then progressively got worse as the week went on. I'd made Darry ground me and I'd hurt Soda. Would it really be too bad for my brothers if I was away for a month?

Hell, maybe it might be good for them; give them a well deserved break from me.

I turn back to Clarke. His smile glints, moonlight cast across his hair. I can't let him down.

"Hell yes, I'm in."

…

I down six drinks without a moment's regret. I get twice as dizzy and bubbly as before; instead of the ground spinning in that pleasant circle like it had the first time, it swirls round and round violently. I can proudly say I get sick twice.

Smith slings an arm around my shoulders and gestures to the sky. "Tomorrow, Curtis, we'll be lookin at that same sky. Same exact one. But we'll be out in the open, headed to Miami."

"We sure will."

I feel myself grinning. The feeling of rebelling in my gut diminishes; now I feel almost normal like this. I'm excited to go to Miami.

Just then I trip and hurl all over the sidewalk for the third time. I'll be lucky if I have any booze left in me by the time I get home, I think wryly. But I love the feeling of puking my guts out onto the street. I make a promise to myself never to get annoyed at Two-Bit for being drunk again, now that I know how it feels.

Lowell is swaggering behind us, bringing up the rear. He isn't sober like he had been the last time, tipsy with the rest of us. I watch as he stumbles to the side and pukes into a storm drain.

Then amidst our nonsense blabbering; in the distance somebody calls out " _Grease!"_ The yell spikes the night. I freeze in my tracks, terrified. Everyone else stops too, their laughter and yelling cut off abruptly.

I glance from each of the guys, praying that to one of them this was their idea of a cruel joke.

But then there it is again; sounding very real. Another voice drawls in "Well will you look at what the cat dragged in."

"Socs," Clark hisses. But we all knew.

Nobody even bothers to stop and find the source of the yelling. We're all too drunk for a fight; so we run.

Clarke turns on his heel and books it down the sidewalk. Quickly I follow, being trailed closely by Smith and Lowell.

"Shee-it," I hear Clarke swear under his breath. I crane my neck to see what he's seeing - two socs right on our tail.

I keep on running. Flying past me is the stench of vomit and alcohol. My heart is hammering up against my shirt. I'm afraid, but somehow I'm having fun too.

I feel one of the socs grabbing me by the shoulder. Before I can wriggle away he flips me around to face him, his hands gripping tightly on my forearms.

Seeing no other option at this point I give him a drunken smile. "Hi."

The soc grins maliciously back at me. "Well I'll be damned, it's a Curtis." he hisses. Then he lays a hard punch to my nose.

I stagger backward and fall back flat on my ass. Weakly with one hand on my throbbing nose, I stumble to my feet again and attempt to kick the soc's shins.

Lowell catches what's going on. His face twists up in anger. " _Bastard!"_ he screams, popping the soc in the temple.

I see Smith struggle out of the other soc's strong hold. He mouths to all of us, _Run,_ so we do. All four of us scamper down the street, breathing heavily. The socs attempt to follow us, but we're smaller than they are and faster.

Clarke shoots them the finger. "Go to hell!" he cries.

"Shit Curtis," Lowell breaths, coming up next to me. "Them assholes break your nose?"

 _With my luck, probably._ I am suddenly sobered by the fight, and well aware of the throbbing in my nose. I wince. "Is it that bad?"

"If you're askin if you think Darry will notice, then that's a yes."

"Shit," I breath, knowing I'm about to be deep in it.

…

Then I make what could quite possibly be the most stupid decision of my life. And that's saying a lot.

After three hours of wasting the night away Clarke has sobered up enough to drive a car. Right now he's parked outside the house, Smith and Lowell in there with him; waiting while I go inside to get a bag. Half of me wants Darry or Soda to be awake to convince me to stay home and half of me doesn't.

It's seven AM on a Sunday, so I'm not surprised when I find that everyone is still asleep. It's as though nothing had happened, that I hadn't crawled out of my window five hours ago. My brothers are blissfully unaware.

 _But not for long._

I find a duffle bag and toss a few pairs of jeans and a few shirts into it. I can't think of anything else that I'd need.

Besides a toothbrush.

In the bathroom I catch a look at myself in the mirror. I wince, Clarke had been right; it is that bad. My nose is swelled up like a balloon, the purple bruise caused by the blow the soc had taken to my face starting to spread across my face. I touch it gently and hiss at the pain it causes. Definitely broken.

On second thought, maybe I do need something else. I reach up into the medicine cabinet and grab up the bottle of aspirin, dry swallowing a few pills and then tucking the rest into the pocket of my jeans.

That will have to do for now.

My heart is hammering and the rebellious feeling is returning. This isn't sneaking out for a night on the town. This is sneaking out and driving hundreds of miles away to Miami, not planning to come back for awhile…

Looking at myself in the mirror with my nose all bruised, my face streaked with dirt, and my breath smelling like alcohol; I feel suddenly worthless. Wasn't I supposed to be smarter than this? Some job I'm doing with that…

I'm angry at myself. Angry at myself for being stupid enough to go out and let myself get drunk again; and this time I got into some trouble. And now I'm running from it.

Really, how many dumb mistakes can a person make over the course of a single night?

I contemplate leaving a note but decide against it. My brothers would try to find me, and I don't want that. I make a promise to myself that I'd call as soon as I come across a phone.

Just as I'm about to leave I spot the pack of NECCO Wafers Two-Bit had given me lying on the kitchen table. I grab them up and stuff them into my duffle bag; for good luck.

Then I leave. Clarke's car is still out front waiting for me to crawl into it. I cram myself into the back seat beside Lowell; he looks to me and grins.

"Ready?"

"Oh yes."

Clarke yodels from the steering wheel. He has _The Beatles_ blasting so loudly through the speakers it's a wonder that he doesn't wake up the whole street. "Miami, Florida. Twenty one hours and one thousand, four hundred miles to go!"

He guns the engine and we take off, leaving my house and my brothers behind us, nothing but a speck of dust.

…

 _Well, I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Haha surprise! I couldn't keep this story waiting.. I just had so many ideas to put into it.._

 _I am updating very early (its 7:30 here) because today I am very busy-tailgaiting..going to a game..- stuff like that. It's going to be a long day!_

 _Thank you to_ _ **fourtyfor, BlondeMess, HappierThanMost, One Wing In The Fire,**_ _and_ _ **CriminalOutsider'sGirl14**_ _your your constant reviews! You cannot fathom how much they mean to me! I will try replying to them this chapter._

 _Anyways, enjoy!_

 _..._

Darry POV

Looking back, I'm glad I was the first one awake.

What gets me out of bed is the sound of the phone ringing. I stumble up and run for it before it hangs up, briefly wondering who's calling so early. The sun is shining bright through the windows as I enter the living room. I hadn't realized how late I'd slept in.

Still half asleep I grab up the phone at the third ring. "Hello?" I say, sounding groggy.

It's Ponyboy. "Darry?" he asks anxiously.

"Ponyboy." My heart drops.

"Yeah, Dar, it's me…"

I sigh exasperatedly. "What-Where are you?" I don't even have time to contemplate the fact that I'd just woken up and Pony wasn't at home.

Ponyboy laughs nervously. "Dar, you ain't gonna believe this…"

My stomach flip flops, knowing what the kid is capable of getting himself into. "Pony.."

"I'm telling you! Hell I hardly believe it either.."

"Where in God's sakes' are you, Ponyboy?" I growl. I hear my brother wince. He's silent for awhile.

"Arkansas," he finally admits. His voice is small. "Fayetteville, Arkansas.."

This hits me like a punch in the stomach. Suddenly I am wide awake. I let that sink in. Ponyboy is in Arkansas. Arkansas. I can't think of anything to say - so I don't; anger boils up in my throat.

Noticing my silence Ponyboy rambles on. "I know what you're thinkin, Dar. It's ok. I'm ok. I'm safe.. Just don't try and get to me.."

"Oh," I say, my voice catching, dripping with sarcasm. "Why would I do that?"

Someone in the background says something, triggering a chorus of loud guffaws. "Shut up!" I hear Pony yell, though not at me. "I can barely hear him." Then he says into the phone "I'm, uh, goin on a trip. Just a little vacation, no big deal. I'll be back in say a month." he pauses like he's waiting for me to reply. When I don't say anything he continues on "I'm alright, Dar. I promise. I'm with some friends.. We're staying at Lowell's - Chris Lowell! You remember him? You used to play football with his brother. Well we're staying at his aunt's house."

I feel like ripping the phone cord out of the wall and throwing it across the room. I know exactly what 'friends' my brother is with. Those hoodlums who had given him the beer. It's like a sudden wake up call; literally.

"And what am I supposed to tell the social workers?"

I can feel Ponyboy hesitate. _Guess he hadn't thought of that._ "If they come.. just tell them I'm with a family friend or something."

I grunt "Ponyboy Michael Curtis, I swear I'm gonna -"

Pony interrupts me. "Listen Dar, I'm real sorry about the..Short notice. But I gotta go."

"Where in hell's name is this vacation to?"

Again, someone in the background swears loudly. I hear Ponyboy drop the receiver then pick it back up.

"Miami," he says almost inaudibly before hanging up with a bang.

…

Thirty minutes later and Soda's awake. He ambles into the kitchen, yawning and pouring himself a glass of chocolate milk.

"Morning Dar," he says with a grin.

"Good morning Soda."

He plops down beside me on the couch and eyes the television, which is switched to the news channel. He makes a face of distaste. "Is there anythin more interesting we could watch?"

"Soda," I say vacantly; staring at the newsman on the TV who babbles about the weather and whatnot but don't really see anything. "Ponyboy. Do you know where he is right now?"

Soda bites his lip. "In bed, right? Dar, is this about-I swear I didn't-"

"Our brother is in Arkansas," I interrupt.

Soda suddenly chokes on his chocolate milk, spitting it onto the couch. Instinctively I grab for a box of Kleenex and begin to mop up his mess. "Arkansas? What the hell is he doing in Arkansas?"

I nod to the phone. "He called a half hour ago. Said he was takin a vacation."

"A vacation," Soda mumbles to himself. "That is such bull shit!"

"I tried to tell him that. But does his stubborn ass ever listen? No. Our brother is in a car with those idiots who got him drunk last week. And they're going to Miami."

Soda jumps to his feet and runs to the phone. "Well we gotta call them up! Bring him home!"

"I tried," I say, choked. "But I don't know where he is right now."

The expectant look Soda is given me is making me feel helpless, like the day we'd gotten the call from the police. _I'm supposed to know what to do._

"Then we call the cops."

"They can't do anything, Soda.."

Soda sinks into a kitchen chair, head in hands. I know that he can't lose Ponyboy. It'd be like losing a part of himself. I go up to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen Soda. We'll get him home, ok?" I feel like a liar.

Soda doesn't say anything in return.

…

Ponyboy POV

We've been driving for five hours before Smith declares a pitstop. "Clarke, you take the wheel next," he orders turning in on Clarke.

I watch as Lowell digs a road map from his back pocket and lays it out on the hood of the car. "We've been driving for five hours, right? Yeah that's about it..we left at seven and it's almost noon. Well we'll be in Mississippi soon. We're right on the border here.."

"Hey map man!" calls out Smith, pointing to the drug store behind him. "C'mon, five minutes ago you were goin on all about how you were gonna piss yourself.."

Lowell rolls his eyes, but I notice how he walks to meet Clarke and Smith. He does have to pee.

"I'll meet you guys in there," I yell to them. "I'm gonna have a smoke."

Clarke shoots me a thumbs up before he disappears into the drug store.

I light a cigarette. I lean up against the hood of Smith's car, inhaling the smoke and watching the cars pass by on the highway. I think of my brothers back in Tulsa - they must be worrying their heads off. I shudder when I think back about the phone call I'd made to Darry this morning. I could detect the fear in his voice; he just didn't want me to know it. He thought I'd end up like mom and dad.

And Soda. I'd never got to apologize for being such an ass to him. I don't know what I was thinking, saying all that shit. I was angry… and I hadn't thought it through.

Hell, do I think anything through? What am I doing, standing by a highway in the middle of Arkansas?

I realize maybe I'm worrying too much. Darry has always said that I have a tendency to do that. My brothers are just fine, maybe celebrating my sudden disappearance..

No. Not that. I want to kick myself.

Clarke appears back through the door of the drugstore with a bag of potato chips. He throws them at me. "I got you lunch. You owe me the eighty cents.."

Suddenly I'm broken from my train of thought. I examine the bag of chips in my hand. "Thanks," I tell Clarke.

"My pleasure," he mumbles as he settles next to me. "So your brothers - they were really cool with you comin?"

I nearly choke. "Well..not without..there was a hassle.."

"I assumed. Darry still have that stick up his ass?"

I become guarded. My brother - who had given up everything for Soda and I's sake - had the right to the occasional stick up his ass. "Actually he was pretty cool with it. Just grilled me about staying safe..not driving when I'm drunk..no drugs.. Shit like that."

I wince inwardly at my lies.

"Oh," says Clarke, apparently sensing my defensiveness, decides to turn the conversation on him "My folks are out for the week." He shoots me a grin. "I left them a note. To surprise them."

"Yeah..they're in for a surprise."

The beer from last night is catching up to me. My head starts to pound, and finding the sudden need to sit down, I collapse onto the hood of the car. I don't want to be talking to Clarke right now - cocky Clarke who can do no wrong. I'd rather be talking to anyone else.

"So I was thinking," Clarke begins before launching into a grand plan for our first day in Miami. I only half listen, my mind elsewhere. Being eaten away by guilt.

Because suddenly the trip to Miami isn't just a rebellious idea in my head. It's real, and the first five hours aren't all that they've cracked up to be.

…

 _Please leave reviews! I love them!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Stayed home from school today..what better to do than write? This chapter is a quickie, sorry._

 _ **HappierThanMost, CriminalOutsider'sGirl14, BlondeMess, One Wing In the Fire, MySunnyDisposition,**_ _and of course,_ _ **Bigsqueak...**_ _thank you all so much for your reviews! I am so very thankful for them, they inspire me to write more and more and more…_

 _..._

Soda POV

Darry doesn't want to show it, but I can tell he's just as nervous as I am about Ponyboy's disappearing. I see him sit by the phone all day with the newspaper, jumping up when it rings and picking it up fast. Then when he realizes it's not Pony talking, his tone goes down a few notches and he looks disappointed.

It hasn't even been a day since he's been gone but his leaving has taken over my every thought. I desperately want to talk some sense into him but he never calls. Mostly I just hope he's ok. But when he gets home, I swear I'm going to wring his neck.

Steve and Two-Bit are just as surprised as we are. When I tell them that Ponyboy's going to Miami, Two-Bit promptly chokes on the beer he'd been in the middle of guzzling.

"First the he gets absolutely wasted, now he takes a vacation.." He shakes his head, a slight grin on his face.

Steve gives Two-Bit a look. "I know. He's turning out to be just like you." Seeing my look of concern he says to me "Are you sure that's where he's off to? Miami? Maybe he's pissin with you, seeing how far he can go."

I shake my head. "No..I think it's real. He called Darry this morning...he said he sounded serious alright. But I haven't talked to him."

"Jesus.." Steve sinks back into the couch. "That kid is gonna get himself killed."

Two-Bit shakes his bottle of beer and tips it upside down, trying to get the last few drops out. "What I don't get is why _I_ wasn't invited for this little trip. Those kids are so young..they ain't know nothing about good ol fashion fun. I could show em a thing or two."

"Shut up Two-Bit" says Steve, defending for me.

I keep on talking; dismissing Two-Bit's stupid remarks. "I said to Darry that we ought to call the police, but I guess they can't do nothing at this point anyway. He's probably all the way in Mississippi by now.."

"What the hell is it with this kid and running off?" Steve marvels. Hurt, I give him a look. Steve shrugs at me. "Well it's true."

Mustering up some sympathy, Two-Bit gets up and places a hand on my shoulder. "The kid can handle himself more than you think, Soda. He'll be ok. The trip might even be good for him, who knows?"

 _Me. I know.._ But I don't say anything. I just shrug.

…

Ponyboy POV

"Alright, Curtis, pull into that drug store there." Smith orders me. It's one AM but we're all wide awake in Smith's car, determined to make it to Miami in one drive. I turn into the drug store and kill the engine.

Lowell leans back and pulls out his map. "Officially in Florida" he announces. Clarke whoops loudly before scrambling out of the car with Smith into the drugstore. Seeing a phone booth, I get out of the car too, leaving Lowell to fill the gas tank. I know it's probably too late to call back to Tulsa but I still try.

I'm surprised when someone picks up right away. It's Two-Bit. "Howdy" he says lamely.

I chew on my lip; wondering if he knows already or if he's in for a surprise. "Hey Two-Bit. It's Ponyboy."

"Hi kid. So how's the trip? You're on your way to Argentina, right?" Yeah, he knows alright.

"It's great." I tell him. Suddenly someone rips the phone from Two-Bit; Soda. "Pony? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Praise the lord," he breaths, sounding relieved. "Took you long enough to call again."

I twist the phone cord in my fingers. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that. We've been driving all day. We just stopped."

Soda's silent for awhile. Then I hear him take a breath. "Listen Ponyboy. I'm real sorry about the other day..guess I got carried away…"

My heart drops. "Yeah. Me too."

"Wanna talk to Darry?"

 _Not really._ I don't need his reaction to my leaving after he's had a day to let it sink in. But I guess Darry took the phone from Soda because I hear him talking next. "Ponyboy."

"Darry."

He seems at a loss of words. "Are you...having fun?" I smirk into the phone at his lack of articulation.

"Yeah, Dar. We're in Florida now, did you know that? Three more hours till Miami. It's one AM here."

I wait for him to tell me to get some sleep, but he doesn't. He sighs; sounding more tired than I've ever heard him. "I know. The east coast. Pony, promise me you'll give me a call when you get to the house...whoever's house it is."

"Lowell's aunt's."

"Yeah. There."

"Is Soda alright? He isn't too worried about me, right?"

"We're all worried about you, Pony."

A car horn honks. Jumping, I turn and see Smith leaning over the steering wheel from the passenger seat. The car is already jam packed with him Clarke and Lowell.

"We ain't gettin anywhere without a driver, Curtis!"

I hold up a finger, telling them to give me one more minute. Then I say to Darry "Well, don't worry about me. Because I'm fine. But I gotta go."

I hang up the phone before Darry can say anything else and jump back into the car, suddenly excited about Miami again.

…

 _Soo..what do you want to see happen in Miami? I have some things in mine but I want to know what you think…_

 _Please leave reviews!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello readers. Happy Easter eve...if that is a thing. Hah._

 _I was debating whether or not to update today because of Easter being tommorrow...but I did._

 _Thank you for all your reviews! You all seem to be very concerened about what I have planned to happen to Ponyboy in Miami...well by listing things NOT to do you have given me great ideas! Just kidding...or am I?_

 _..._

Ponyboy POV

"Miami, Florida."

The trip is suddenly more real than ever, so real it's more like dream. I am here.

I miss my brothers but at the same time I'm glad to be away from them. I feel free; like any other kid who goes out and does stupid stuff but regrets none of it.

Maybe this is how Dallas Winston felt all the time. The thought comes upon me - what would Dally think of this? Or Johnny?

Though if they were alive I probably never would have taken this trip. Or gotten drunk that night.

 _So much for staying gold…_ I recall Johnny's last words bitterly.

My worries fade once I take in my surroundings. Even though it's five AM and the sky is still dark Miami is lit up like Christmas and louder than I've ever heard Tulsa.

"Holy shit," Clarke breaths leaning over me to get a better look out my window at the traffic "We're really here." I push him away, annoyed.

But I'm in awe too. "I know."

Lowell snorts from the front seat. "Yeah, it took us long enough. I think I just spent more money on gas than I've spent in my whole life."

"Quit complaining. I paid for most of it; it's my car." Smith gripes.

In the heat of the moment I flash back to the phone call I'd made to my brothers three hours ago. That feels like last week now. They whole gang is probably asleep back in Tulsa; if they can get any sleep. I'm sure Darry and Soda are worrying their heads off about me.

I wish that they wouldn't. I'm just fine.

…

Lowell's aunt's apartment is barely that. I feel apprehensive in the short sprint from the car to the door. The alley seems like one for a robbery.

And then, just my luck…"You look scared," someone whispers from behind me. _Shit._

I haven't been in Miami for thirty minutes...

Terrified, I jerk around and find myself facing Clarke. He wears a malicious grin as he pushes my bag into my chest. "Gotcha good there, Curtis."

I manage a weak laugh even though I'm shaking from head to toe. I follow Lowell up into the apartment.

I walk into a shaggy rug haphazardly thrown on the floor and a narrow hallway. Somewhere in the apartment I can hear an old fan click and shudder.

"Damn" Clarke says into my ear with a low voice when he comes up behind me. "When Lowell described this place I imagined a palace."

I elbow him. _It's not like your house is anything more._ Though I don't get to say anything because Lowell's aunt appears around a corner. At the sight of us she breaks into a grin and immediately wraps Lowell into a hug "Christopher. Welcome back hun." Lowell blushes, Smith nudges me and grins.

"Hi Aunt Bea" I can just barely hear Lowell say in covert. He sounds glad to see his aunt.

Beatrice breaks apart from him and holds her hand out in front of her hip. "Last time I saw you...you were _this_ tall. You're so big now…"

Lowell blushes, I see him flip a furtive finger at Clarke who had been puckering his lips at him.

Turning in on Smith, Clarke and I, Lowell's aunt clicks her tongue. "And the party of course. I'm Beatrice Lowell."

We each take a turn shaking her bony hand. She's smiling wide; I notice she has eyes that match Lowell's.

…

Darry POV

Soda barely holds it together with thin threads. I can tell he's shocked by Ponyboy's vagueness in the phone call he'd made last night - I guess he'd been expecting something more. Even worse, he blames himself in the first place.

"This is all me," he chokes weakly to me as he devours a piece of cake with one hand and tries to put on his shoe with the other. "We had…an argument the day before he left." he looks sick. "I think that was the last straw. I drove him out, Darry..."

This takes me by surprise-Ponyboy and Soda never argue. "Argument about what?" I implore.

Soda shakes his head. He looks like he's going to explode any second. "That doesn't matter! He's-he's gone, he could get hurt...who knows?"

I glance at the clock; Steve should be coming any minute to go to work with Soda. I'd have to make this quick.

I place a hand on Soda's shoulder, wincing at how much it shakes. "Ponyboy is fine," I tell him firmly. "You didn't drive him out. He just needed a break. Besides he isn't fourteen anymore."

My brother's face clouds over. "That's what worries me."

"Sod-"

Before anything else is said the door swings open; Steve rolling inside with Two-Bit in the rear, carrying a six pack of beer. "Ready?" he asks looking to Soda.

Soda gives me one last look but follows Steve out. "Yeah. I'm ready."

I watch the two of them leave and wonder what I can do to help Soda. He's really taking this hard; like he does with everything. The worst he can do is blame himself.

I don't want another Windrixville.

But I can't do anything in the present moment; I have to leave for work too. I grab my keys from the hook by the door.

Just as I'm about to leave I see Two-Bit plunk on the couch with his beer. "You don't mind if I crash here for the day do you?" then he shakes his head. "Nah, you don't."

I grumble to myself and swing the door open.

…

Ponyboy POV

" _Ponyboy."_

 _I roll over onto my back, still exhausted from the night before. "Go. Away. Smith."_

" _Smith? I ain't Smith." the voice cracks._

 _My eyes flutter open and I find myself facing Sodapop. He's in his DX uniform. His noise is only inches from mine. "Oh," I yawn. "Soda." For some reason I'm not shocked by my brother's sudden appearance at all._

 _He grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I can smell the chocolate cake on his breath. "Why did you do it?"_

" _Do what?"_

" _Why did leave me Pony?"_

 _I wince, his words hitting me like a metal bat. "I'm sorry, Sodapop, I just needed-"_

" _Soda? Did you just call me Sodapop?" someone laughs. My eyes widen - now I'm facing Darry. "Glory, can't tell your own brothers apart anymore..."_

" _Darry" I breath, relieved to be seeing him. It's only been two days but it feels like months since I've seen my brothers._

" _Yeah, it's me. Why did you call me Sodapop, Pone?"_

 _Floundering, I stutter "I dunno. It's just-I feel like he was just here a second ago."_

 _Darry's eyes harden. "Well he wasn't. Not at all. I suppose you wouldn't know; you weren't here for it and I never got around to writing a letter. I've been too busy making plans..."_

" _Plans for what?" I wonder out loud, cursing my curiosity._

 _Darry's eyes seem to avert from mine. "The funeral, Ponyboy."_

" _Funeral?" I croak, feeling my eyes bug out. "But-no one is dead."_

" _Since you've been in Miami Sodapop entered a drag race. There was an accident-he didn't make it." Darry's voice is without emotion._

" _Darry," I breath, choking on my words. This can't be happening. Not to me. "I haven't even been in Miami for a day…"_

 _He looks confused. "God, your memory is getting worse by the day. It's been three months Ponyboy. You promised you'd make it back in just one...but you never did."_

 _I feel a tear fall down my face, followed by more. I don't bother to wipe them away. "That ain't true, don't say that."_

 _He doesn't reply._

" _Darry!"_

 _There it is again-a laugh. But this time it isn't Darry's. "Golly Ponyboy. It's me, Soda." Staring back at me is Sodapop, still inches from my face as he grabs onto my shoulders._

" _Soda," I breath with relief. "Soda, it's you. You ain't dead…" I grab my brother's wrist, not wanting to let go, afraid he was actually dead._

 _He looks confused. "Nah. I'd rather not be. Why would you think a thing like that?"_

 _I lean in close to him. "Darry told me that you died...that you entered a drag race and died…"_

 _Soda shakes his head. "Nope. Still here. Now wake up."_

 _Only his mouth doesn't move when he says 'Now wake up.'_

" _Huh?"_

" _Wake up, Ponyboy! Beatrice is making us breakfasssst!" Soda's mouth is still stationary._

" _Soda," I gasp, but my brother is slipping away from me. No...no...no… "Soda!"_

" _Pancakes! Can't you smell em?"_

Someone shakes my shoulder. I yell, rolling over to face Smith. He scratches his head. "What the hell...Was that a dream?"

I have to take a moment to catch my breath. Then I ask "Was I talking?"

Smith nods slowly, looking concerned. "Yeah. Askin for Soda."

"Shit," comes the furtive swear from my mouth.

"It was just a nightmare," Smith reasons with me, apparently having heard it. "Sometimes I have them too." he confides a little more quietly.

I look up at him, noticing he looks a little different than I have ever seen him. Softer...calmer. More vulnerable.

"What are they about?"

He waves me away, a grin forming on his face. "Nothing. C'mon...you heard me. Beatrice is cookin up some pancakes and they sure do smell good.

…

 _Yes, the nightmares are back!_

 _Don't leave me Easter candy...leave me reviews!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello everybody! I keep on updating so fast because your reviews come so quickly and really spur me to write...thanks a bunch!_

 _I really hope I'm not dragging this story too far or making it too OOC. Those are some things I worry about. If you do think it's OOC or dragging out too far - tell me. But keep in mind everybody in this story is about three years older than they were in the book, so they won't be the exact same as they have grown up a little._

 _Thanks SO much to anyone who has ever reviewed...you are the reason that I keep updating!_

 _..._

 **Soda POV**

"Let me help you."

I pretend Steve isn't there and continue to go to work. I can't focus on the engine I'm supposed to be fixing, even without Steve here. I can't afford his distractions.

"Here" says Steve again. I see a wrench go flying from his hand. It lands by my feet. I look at the screwdriver in my hand and reluctantly switch it out for the wrench Steve had thrown to me. Then I go back to work in silence.

When Steve still doesn't leave I sigh and sit back on my heals. "What do you want?" I ask looking up at him, annoyed.

He gives me a sideways grin. "Nothing. How's it goin?"

I sigh exasperatedly and continue to tinker with the engine. Steve knows exactly how it's _going_ for me. I wish he'd just leave me alone. Ever since Ponyboy had left my temper had been...as Two-Bit likes to say it... _up the wall and over the roof._

"This ain't a good time Steve."

"It's never a good time anymore."

I ignore him. I wince when I find out that I'd been screwing the wrong spot on the engine the whole time. In my frustration I kick the engine, sending it skitting away.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Steve grab a Pepsi furtively. "You have to pay for that" I grumble, knowing I'm being irritable but not really caring.

He only guffaws at me. "Since when do you care?"

I shake my head. "I don't. But it's cuttin out of your paycheck.."

"You're gettin to be as bad as the boss," Steve gripes. "Lighten up Soda."

 _I'll tell you to lighten up when YOUR brother is hundreds of miles away with the idiots who shoved alcohol down his throat three weeks ago..._ But I don't voice my thought. I know it makes no sense. Instead I say "Puh-leeze leave."

I hear Steve click his tongue. "God Soda. Where's the funeral? You really can't keep on blamin yourself for the kid's screwups...they're his problem, not your's."

Wrong thing to say. I jerk up, forgetting the engine on the ground. "But it is my problem" I state blankly. "Because he's my brother and I care about him."

Steve only chuckles and takes a gulp from his stolen Pepsi. I feel heat rising in my face.

"But I guess you wouldn't know what that feels like would you."

Steve stops and looks at me with a blank expression. Immediately I feel cold all over. My grip slackens on the wrench I'm holding and it clatters the the ground. I clench my eyes shut. _Stupid Soda. Stupid, stupid…_

When I open my eyes again I see Steve put his Pepsi down on the counter hard. The hollow sound it makes echoes through my head. "Steve…I…"

"No," he says flatly. "I get it. It's true." Just then our boss peels around the corner, narrowly missing bumping into Steve. I look to him.

"I think I'll take my lunch break now," I choke out even though it's only ten AM. I need to sort myself out.

Because I'm falling apart and I have no idea what to do.

But I know someone who might. I could always count on him.

If only he wasn't 100s of miles away…

…

I can just barely recall the number Ponyboy had given me.

I take off from the DX the second my boss grants me lunch break, feeling like I'm running from my problems.

I pound into the empty house, leaving Steve's car still running out front. I nearly knock over a lamp when I storm through the living room to get to the phone.

I dial the number, letting the phone ring for a moment before someone picks it up.

"Hello?" it's a woman's voice.

"Hi," I say breathlessly. "This is Ponyboy Curtis' brother...Sodapop. Is this Beatrice Lowell?"

The woman on the other end clicks her tongue. "Yup. Sure is."

I sigh with relief. "Oh thank god. Good."

We're both silent for a moment. "Soooo…" she drawls awkwardly.

I remember why I called in the first place and suddenly perk up. "My brother wouldn't happen to be there too...would he?"

"Nope. Sorry. He and the boys left an hour ago to introduce themselves to the city" she chuckles fervently. I hear her say offhandedly to herself "Oh, what I'd do to be young again.."

I ignore her inane babbling, worrying. _He and the boys left an hour ago to introduce themselves to the city…_ I hate to think what they could be doing right now.

"Well...tell him to call home whenever he gets back." I insist. "Tell him it's Soda. He'll call.

"Sure thing sonny. Is everything alright?"

 _No it's not._ I sigh. "Yeah," I say feeling like a liar. "Everything is fine."

"Because I'm sure I could track him down no problem if-"

"Everything is _fine,"_ I declare before hanging up sharply.

I sink into Darry's chair. This really is Windrixville all over again...something I had hoped I'd never have to repeat. Except maybe it's worse this time. Because I know exactly where Ponyboy is but there's no way I could ever get to him now.

I look at the clock. My lunch break is over by now. I need to get back to work before Steve starts to worry about who took his car, and then get back home again before Ponyboy calls.

…

Ponyboy POV

I take out my wallet, ready to pay for the drink the bartender is holding out at me. But Lowell steps in and pushes the money back into my chest taking out his own.

He winks "This one's on me."

I falter, accepting the beer-if you could call it that-with unease. "But-"

Lowell slips the money into the bartender's hand and he walks away. He didn't really care whose money he was accepting. Just as long as he got paid I suppose. "Shut up Curtis."

I take a drink from the alcohol and shudder. It tastes different here than in Miami than it does in Tulsa. More bitter...but then again, maybe that's how it's actually supposed to taste. We didn't exactly exactly top of the line beer back at home.

I watch as Lowell slides into the stool next to me. Lewis and Clark are off somewhere trying to hustle someone in a game of pool, but so far no one is taking two kids who had gotten in with fake IDs seriously.

The bar we're in is loud and crowded. People huddle all over in little skeevy groups, talking and smoking...and some other things that I will _never_ mention to either of my brothers that I have witnessed. Darry and Soda would never approve of any of this, come to think of it. But I guess that's part of what makes this trip fun.

I'm still unnerved by my nightmare last night. It's been almost two years since I've had one and I hadn't been expecting another. When I get back I make a promise to myself to call home...ask if Sodapop plans on entering into any drag races. And then talk him out of it if he is.

Lowell turns on me. "So how are you liking Miami?"

"Well so far all we've done is go to this bar. Which isn't much different than what we do in Tulsa." I opine, smiling.

He shoots me a crooked grin. "But you gotta admit it's a little rougher here. Right?"

"Sure" I agree. And it is. In the twenty minute ride from Beatrice's apartment to the bar, I had counted seven police car sirens. Not to mention the sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the bar that I consciously choose to ignore.

"But it's classy," Lowell ventures, swivelling on the leather stool as though that it's some sort of proof.

I roll my eyes at him and take a drink from my beer. Lowell rambles on. "There are zoos here, Curtis. _Zoos._ I say we go to a zoo."

I choke on a laugh. I haven't been to a zoo since I was ten. I can clearly recall the last time I went though. Soda had spilled his ice cream down the front of his shirt.

"Sure. A zoo. See the lions...or whatever they have here."

Lowell's eyes twinkle. "Even better. Gorillas."

"Right."

Just then Clarke comes bounding over, sporting a bruise that is forming around his right eye and a busted lip. Behind him I can see Smith just barely fending off a big burly man with a pool cue. I can tell already that whatever bet they managed to make has gone wrong and havoc has started to wreak.

What fun.

"We. Have. To. Leave." Clarke says through clenched teeth.

The sound of shattered glass echoes through the bar as Smith smashes a beer bottle with a flying pool cue. The bartender on duty only looks at him and the man tiredly. _Another day's work…_

Clarke turns to the bartender. "He'll pay for that."

Seeing that Clarke has captured our attention, Smith drops the pool cue and makes a break for a door. Catching the memo I'm soon to follow, leaving the beer Lowell had bought me forgotten at the counter.

Maybe I was wrong. Miami is off to a great start.

…

 _Man, I hope that Soda and Steve argument wasn't too dramatic/cheesy/OOC. I just wanted to get this story really rolling and present some of the conflicts that will be throughout it._

 _Puh-leeze review. Here's a sob story for you: That argument scene with Soda and Steve took like 3 rewrites. First I just tried to revise the hell out of the first one...but it just wasn't doing it for me...so I took it down and rewrote it and then had to revise THAT. What a sad sack wine bag I am being. Haha. Have I bribed you into reviewing? ;)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Update time! Spring break has ended...Field Hockey has started...now I am very busy. Sigh. If only I could write all day._

 _Thank you all so much for your reviews. They make my day, FYI ;)_

 _..._

Soda POV

"Soda. It's for you."

Suddenly broken out of my daze I spring to my feet, ripping the phone from Darry's hands as he holds it out to me. I had been so lost in my world of _what if's_ that I had forgotten that Ponyboy was going to call. Suddenly I'm nervous and excited to talk to my brother.

Two-Bit sees me gripping the phone like my life depends on it and smirks at my urgency. "Hot date?"

"Nope," I say quickly and bring the receiver to my ear. Not a girl for once, but an imperative phone call all the same. Seeing that I'm not going to offer any more information Two-Bit and Darry exchange looks but have the decency to let me be.

"Hello?" My heart picks up when I hear that it's Pony. "Soda?"

"Yeah it's me," I sigh, sinking up against the wall. It comforts me just to hear my little brother's voice. Only he's not so little anymore. "In the flesh. Actually not really."

"Oh thank God." He breaths. "Beatrice told me you called when I was gone. She said you asked her to tell me to call you back."

"Yeah, I did."

"Well...is everything ok?"

I hesitate, looking around afraid someone might be listening in. Darry is sitting at the kitchen table with a crossword puzzle in front of him and Two-Bit is standing over him, talking fervently about everything from broads to beer but I can tell Darry is only half listening. I"m safe.

I tighten my grip on the phone and pull it closer to my ear. "No." I say bluntly

"Shit. I knew this would happen." Ponyboy almost sounds scared. He thinks he's worried about _me?_

"Wait. Soda. You aren't planning on entering any drag races anytime soon...are you?"

I had been about to launch into my argument with Steve but Pony's random question catches me off guard. At Least I know he's still his scatterbrained self, even in Miami. "What?"

"Well, are you?"

I laugh to myself. Maybe he's not used to the bright lights in Miami and they're doing something funny to his brain. Or maybe...no. I can't think about that possibility. I'll drive myself nuts. "Not me. Steve? Maybe." My chest hurts as I mention Steve _._

I hear Ponyboy swear silently under his breath. "Well tell him not to."

"Why?"

"Just tell him." he says firmly.

"Alright…" I say. Though I don't really see that happening in the near future if things stay the way they are.

Ponyboy is silent. I can't seem to break the awkwardness between us. I frown, that awkwardness is never there. "Listen Pony...I really need to-"

Somewhere in the background of the phone call I hear someone yell to my brother. "Coming!" he shouts back. He must've held the phone away from his ear because his voice sounds muffled. I guess he hadn't wanted me to hear. The pain in my chest grows.

Then he says back to me "I got to go Soda. Dinner."

No. No. No. I had waited all day for this phone call. "Ponyboy-"

"Soda I really have to-"

Someone rips the phone from my brother's hand. I cringe at the noise of yelling and static as Ponyboy fumbles around to get it back again.

Breathless, he speaks again. "I'm sorry. I guess...I mean...I'll call you back tomorrow."

The he hangs up. Not even a _goodbye._

Fuming, I look at the dead reciever in my hand regretfully. This is not the brother I know. My brother should be on the couch right now, lost to the world in some book. He does not belong in Miami with that bunch of jackasses.

How could I let this happen?

Angrily I slam the phone back onto the wall. Darry jerks up and looks to me, obviously alarmed at my temper. "What's wrong?"

I don't even answer. Just grunt. Defeated by my little brother I retreat my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, and sink onto the bed wondering where it all went wrong.

…

Ponyboy POV

"Welcome to the zoo."

"Hey Smith, this place reminds me of your house."

"Shut up Clarke."

I tune out Smith and Clarke's inane bickering. The place is a zoo if I've ever seen one. People are everywhere...all kinds of people. Screaming babies, little kids, old people... _decrepit geezers_ as Two-Bit would call them. I get a flash of guilt remembering home.

Lowell tugs at my sleeve, catching me off guard and scaring me. Seeing my face he smirks "Curtis. Look. Gorillas."

I crane to get a look around his shoulder. Sure enough, there are the gorillas. I wink at Lowell. "Yup. You told me."

"I say we go."

"Yeah," tunes in Smith, coming up behind me. "We could sure get some action in with the gorillas."

I glare at him, but I think my smile gives me away.

As we walk, Clarke comes up next to me and sticks his mouth next to my ear. "Shit. You wanna know somethin?"

I turn on him. "What?"

"I forgot to brush my teeth this morning" he says, grinning widely at me.

I should have known. This is Clarke out after all. I jerk away from him and pull the package of NECCO Wafers Two-Bit had given me from my back pocket. I knew that they'd come in handy. Mentally I thank Two-Bit.

"Here. Make your breath nice and fresh for kissing ass." I grill, throwing the candy at him. Somewhere I hear Lowell guffaw loudly. Clarke accepts it without losing his smooth façade and pops one into his mouth.

"What would we do without you Curtis?"

"You'd be dead."

"And that's why you're here."

I don't have time to reply before another round of yelling erupts. "Watch this," Smith calls to me, running up from behind. I just manage to skirt out of the way as he comes sprinting in, taking Clarke by surprise by jumping onto his shoulders. He winks at me. "Free transportation. Ain't gonna turn it down."

Clarke swears and dumps Smith back onto the pavement. People start to stare. I guess Smith had gotten what he wanted; attention.

I roll my eyes, but grin. Darry's wrong. There are worse people to hang out with.

...

 _I did have a dream/nightmare scene to tack onto this, but it just didn't fit right. Haha, guess you'll have to wait till next chapter._

 _Please review!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi everyoneeee. Let me tell you - I have been SO busy. With Honor Society papers, field hockey...I've been writing in snippets of my free time._

 _So please have pity on me and review after you read!_

 _..._

 _Ponyboy POV_

" _Pooo-neee-boooy…"_

 _I realize I'm back in Tulsa. But not just anywhere in Tulsa—in the park, standing by the fountain where Johnny had killed the soc. Even all these years later, the cement is around it is still stained brown with blood._

 _I do the only thing that seems rational; freak out. Ten seconds ago I was falling asleep in Beatrice's apartment, with Smith snoring next to me and Lowell and Clarke talking in the next room over. How could I have traveled hundreds of miles that fast?_

" _Boo."_

 _Nerves on edge, I jump a foot in the air. Jerking around, I can see nothing but a barrel of a gun pointed square between my eyes._

 _I scream so loud that I scare myself. I didn't think I could yell so much._

 _Instinctively I back away from the gun. The back of my knees hit the edge of the fountain and I nearly fall into it, just barely breaking the fall with my hand as I plop onto my ass, landing in a sitting position on the ledge._

 _To my relief the gun is being slowly brought away from my face. For a fleeting second I think this nightmare is over, but in a flash one horror happens after the other._

 _I'm face to face with a man. I can't see much of him but his face, which is only inches from mine as he leans forwards, is blank and unforgiving. I want to back away but I can't risk falling into the fountain. Not again. Never again._

" _Did I scare you?" The Man's rough voice asks. I wince. He laughs, taking that as a yes._

" _So," The Man twirls the gun around his finger. It glints in the moonlight even though the sky is dark. I follow it dangerously with my eyes, apprehensive of his pinkie that's way too close to the trigger. "THIS is how you repay your brothers? After all they've done for you...given up for you?"_

" _No," I croak out. I'm surprised at the sound of my own voice. I thought maybe I'd forgotten how to use it._

 _But this will NOT be how I repay Darry and Soda...whatever that means. I have to get away from The Man and get back to them. I need to tell them how sorry I am...maybe they'll forgive me. Maybe._

 _The man grunts and pulls the gun in front of my face again. I scrunch my eyes closed as though that would make it disappear. "You should have never left," he grumbles harshly._

" _I know that. I'm sorry. I'll go home right now." I beseech, feeling like I'm kissing up to The Man's ass. He seems to like it. A malicious grin creeps up his face._

" _HOW sorry are you?"_

" _Really sorry. So so sorry." I breath. I don't know who's doing the heavy breathing: me or The Man. Probably both of us. "I've never been so sorry…"_

" _Nope. Lies. Goodbye."_

 _So this is the end of me. I expect him to pull the trigger on the gun and let it blast right in my face. But he doesn't. Instead he pushes me backwards from my already-too-close-to-the-fountain edge._

 _I scream. Too late. The last thing I'll ever hear is The Man's cruel laugh._

 _I fall back and drown again._

…

"Curtis. Curtis, get up!"

My eyes snap open. Only inches away from my face is Smith, examining me closely. He has a puzzled look on his face. "Man can you yell." he marvels.

I realize I'm not by the fountain with The Man anymore. I'm back in Beatrice's apartment in bed, the blankets twisted around my legs and the sun pouring through the window over my sheets. It takes a moment for my heart to stop hammering.

I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," I mumble.

Smith chews his lip. I don't think he's used to this kind of stuff. At least...he's not Soda or Darry. "It's ok. I mean...I don't think you woke anyone else up. And I was already awake anyways."

"Oh. Good," I say, not meeting Smith's eyes. The last thing I need is for anyone else to hear me screaming to myself in my sleep. It's not exactly a divine topic of conversation.

"Was that another nightmare?"

I nod, feigning interest in the sheets.

Smith looks uncomfortable, standing there and looking down at me. I'm sure I don't exactly look perky right now. I can feel my hair clinging to my face with cold sweat.

"What was it about?" he asks, a little more gently, like he's comforting a scared animal.

I open my mouth to answer, but realize I don't really have anything to say. Smith, Clarke, and Lowell all know about what happened a few years ago with Johnny and Dally...along with everyone else in Tulsa. But I don't think they really understand it. To them it's just a murder rap. But it's so much more...the only people who _would_ understand are all the way back in Tulsa..

I shrug. "I...I don't really know." It's partially the truth.

Smith snags a hand through his hair. I think he knows there's more to it. That's why I like Smith—he different than the others. He thinks more. He stares at me thoughtfully for a moment, looking like he's about to say something more but the bedroom door swings open and Clarke comes pounding in. One look of me still and bed and he's up beside me, violently ruffling my hair.

"Good morning. Thought you were dead, Curtis."

My mind flashes to the nightmare. How The Man had pushed me backwards into the fountain and I'd drowned again. _Well I was._

I just give a big, sarcastic grin to Clarke. "I've never felt more alive."

Clarke rolls his eyes. "Right." Then he rubs his hands together, jutting his head out to the kitchen. "You know what I just heard? This morning ten people in Miami woke up robbed. In the middle of the night someone was robbin people."

Smith lets out a low whistle. My stomach drops. I can almost hear Darry's _I told you so…_

"Lowell better tell Beatrice to hide all her valuables," Smith cracks. "Cause I bet we're next."

Clarke rolls his eyes. "She ain't got nothing to steal."

"That was my joke," Smith frowns.

"You tell pretty shitty jokes."

"Can't you just let anything be funny?" Smith gripes.

The two of them carry their argument out into the kitchen. I untangle myself from the blankets, my head racing with thoughts. _Robberies all over Miami…_

I almost laugh when I realize how stupid I'm being. What are the chances?

…

Darry POV

Per usual, Soda comes clomping loudly through the door when he gets off work. This time, though, he is without Steve tagging along. We haven't heard much from Steve and Soda doesn't offer any information about where he might be.

In fact there hasn't been much talking at all. Last night's phone call and Soda's outburst has been completely swept under the rug...not that I made any efforts to dig deeper in the first place. Sometimes I think Soda is better off left to his own accord.

"How was work?" Soda asks me nonchalantly while he grabs himself a Pepsi. It almost feels like a normal afternoon.

I sift aside another piece of mail. Bills. All it ever is. Sighing, I decide to call it quits. Forty five minutes I'd been sitting here but managing to get nothing done. "Tiring." I admit.

Sodapop doesn't quite meet my eyes. "Same here."

I'm about to grill him for more information on why Steve isn't accompanying him, but the door bangs open again and Two-Bit waltzes in. "Good afternoon Curtises," he greets, tipping a nonexistent hat.

Soda gives me a sideway stare. Leave it to Two-Bit to interrupt. "Hi Two-Bit," I grunt.

Right away he heads for the kitchen, opening up cabinets and taking out food at his free will. "Ponyboy call?" he asks innocently, having no idea the weight of his words.

I see Soda go white and feign interest in his Pepsi bottle. I do the same with the stack of envelopes in front of me. "Yeah. He called last night..."

Finally settling on a bowl of leftover spaghetti of Soda's, Two-Bit turns on us. "What'd he have to say?"

"Not much" Soda gripes flatly. He puts his Pepsi down on the table with a heavy bang.

Two-Bit meets my eyes. He knows Soda well enough to tell when something is up with him. I shake my head at him. _Not a good topic for conversation._ He nods back, understanding.

He gives his best attempt at changing the subject. "Well where's Steve? Ain't seen him around. Hell, maybe he joined Pony."

Soda winces. Two-Bit blanchs, looking guilty, thinking he had done nothing but tell a joke. I sympathize with him. I know how it feels to not be able to say anything right.

"Steve is busy. I don't know with what," Soda says in short spurts. Then he yawns. "I'm calling it a day. Night Darry. Night Two-Bit."

I watch him leave. Two-Bit chews on his lip, looking uncomfortable. Guilt boils in my stomach. What a mess we're all in. If only I'd taken it easier on Pony that night, maybe none of this would have happened.

…

 _Puh-leeze leave feedback! If you haven't reviewed before...give it a whirl. Even if you have nothing particularly articulate to say...just tell me your favorite part or something. I'd like to continue getting 5 reviews per chapter!_

 _Also thank you VERY much to those who review constantly...love them!_


	11. Chapter 11

_I am updating or else I will forget. Sorry for the short chapter. Kind of sort of cliffhanger. Hehe._

 _..._

The guys are all out in the kitchen. I stay back in the bedroom, a pen and paper on my lap. I chew on the end of the pen, trying to figure out what to say to Darry and Soda. The few phone calls I had made just don't seem to cut it.

Thinking about that, I wince. It feels like I'm completely disjointed from them. I wonder vaguely what they're doing while I'm gone. Hopefully not worrying too much.

I think for a moment then start to write.

 _I hope everything is ok back home. I'm fine here._

Am I? I almost choke on a laugh—I barely even know myself. I decide on keeping it, though. It may be a complete lie, but if lies will make Darry and Soda worry less, then does it really matter?

Right now isn't probably the best time to be writing this letter either. Though there is plenty going on in Miami to keep myself distracted with, my brain is still clouded over from the nightmare I'd had two nights ago. To my frustration, The Man's Face had slipped from my mind. But I remember him alright. In fact I couldn't forget him.

Just in time to stop me from putting another inarticulate thought down onto the paper, Smith comes pounding into the bedroom. Caught off guard, I jump. The cap of my pen flies across the room.

Smirking, Smith bends down to pick it up. "Jumpy?"

"Damn it," I mumble. I try to stuff the paper into my bag before he can see it. Too late. I watch as Smith's grin spreads across his face and all I can do is groan. "Writing to your girlfriend?"

I snort. "Yeah right. Fat chance."

"True. I'm really not seeing hope for you in the future, Curtis." He sighs, plopping down beside to me on the bed. "The guys are goin out to the bar tonight."

I grimace. "The one you got chased out of?"

Smith grins at the memory. "Yeah. That shitbag damn near killed me."

"I wouldn't say _that"_ I guffaw. But I feel guilty about going to the bar again, remembering Soda's words.

 _"Ponyboy, Darry assumed the worse. What with what you've pulled before. He was drivin himself mad worrying about you."_

"So are you in?" Smith ventures. I look down at the capless pen in my hand.

"No. Sorry."

 _Stupid stupid stupid._

Smith looks surprised, but shrugs. "Alright. I guess. That's one less person to buy beer for. Or to have get into fights." he grins at his own joke, but stops when I don't grin back. "Are you sure you don't wanna come Curtis?"

I manage a small smile. "Yeah I'm sure. I'll just slow you down anyways with my 'embarrassing alcohol tolerance'."

Smith chews on his lip, a smile breaking through. "Touché."

…

Turns out, Beatrice had to get groceries at the same time Clarke, Lowell and Smith went to the bar. I'm glad to be alone for once—I hadn't been since I went to bed the night before we left. That seemed longer than just a week ago. It feels good to finally have some time to myself.

I sit down at the table and try to continue writing out my letter to Darry and Soda. I tell them about the zoo trip, but nothing I put down seems to be right. It all sounds too forced, like someone is making me write it.

I call it quits when the phone rings. Not expecting it, I jump towards it, and wonder if I should pick it up.

It rings again. Maybe it's one of the guys. Maybe it's Beatrice. It could be important. Whoever it is, I lunge across the table for the receiver.

I grimace at the final thought that it might be Darry or Soda.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank god," someone answers. I scrunch up my nose, striking me as odd when I hear it's Lowell. "Ponyboy Curtis? Is that you? Puh-Leeze tell me it's you."

The position that I'm in isn't exactly comfortable, stretched across the table just barely reaching the phone. "Yeah." I wheeze.

I hear Lowell mutter a silent prayer. "I was afraid you wouldn't answer." I hear Clarke yell something to him. "Uh yeah. We sort of need you to call Aunt Bea. Tell her we're all going to a movie. Ok? And get your ass down here. To the bar." he says in disjointed spurts.

"Why?"

"Just come."

"But you have the car."

Lowell inhales through his nostrils and takes a long breath. It sounds staticy through the phone. "Yeah. That's the problem."

The table shifts under my weight and I nearly slip. I gasp out a swear. "Well how the hell am I supposed to get to you without the car?" I hiss breathlessly.

"You're on the track team. Right Curtis? "

…

 _Thank you very much to_ _ **Bigsqueak, sodasgirl1, One Wing**_ _**In The Fire, HappierThanMost, My SunnyDisposition,**_ _and the guest for your reviews. Keep them coming ;)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry for any update confusion. Long story short-this chapter deleted itself. Oopsie daisy. But now it is up again, so get your typing hands ready to review :) (Also thanks for those who messaged me, concerned. It warmed my heart)_

 _ **Bigsqueak-**_ _Wow. Ok. I helped you make an account, so thank me for that later. Your review made me laugh...glad you say Pony's inner feelings._

 _ **MySunnyDisposition-**_ _Yes, I was proud of him too. Oh well…_

 _ **BlondeMess-**_ _Glad you picked up on me trying to dig deeper into Pony's thoughts. It's like I can read his mind._

 _ **CriminalOutsider'sGirl14-**_ _Glad you found that last part funny! I found humor to be necessary._

 _ **HappierThanMost-**_ _Happy that you picked up on those details! It takes a good reader to find those...I am guessing you are one ;)_

 _Warning: Cursing. Guess I should've added this to all my chapters, since Pony's friends have horrible mouths. Oops. :)_

 _..._

Soda POV

As I predicted, work at the DX picks up as July rolls on. Everytime I see a group of kids bring their car in busted from a road trip, my heart sinks and I think of Ponyboy.

 _A month, Soda. He'll be gone a month. That's almost up._

But it sure doesn't seem like it. Everyday feels slower.

"Soda."

I jump, surprised to see Steve standing there. "Glory you scared me." I huff, trying to act casual even though my mind is racing with what to say.

He smiles grimly. "I have a knack." We're both silent for an awkward few seconds. He cuts to the chase. "The boss has a few complaints from two of your customers. You gave one guy a free oil change when he needed his tires changed and the other got new tires when she needed an oil change." he sounds rehearsed, like he wasn't actually talking to me.

My heart jumps with guilt. I shake my head. "I...it was confusing. The cars were both red."

"Well...the boss is pissed."

Grumbling, I give up my position at the counter to Steve to deal with the problem. The truth is my mind had been too busy buzzing with the events of the past two weeks to focus on fixing cars. It's all too much on my plate.

Suddenly come face to face with the boss. He's grunting into the phone.

"Listen, there are no refunds-"

Then his eyes fall on me, wide with anger. "Actually...here. Let me put you on the phone with the employee who managed your car."

He hands the phone out to me and I take it, dumbstruck. He brushes past me and grumbles into my ear "Good luck."

I say into the phone, "Sodapop. DX."

The woman on the other end is just about having a tantrum. "Good lord. What kind of car dealership doesn't give refunds?"

Awkwardly I cough into my fist. "We aren't a dealership, ma'm. We just fix the cars."

"Oh. Whatever. But I was charged for four replaced tires that didn't need replacing. I'd like my money back." She sounds on-edge, like I feel.

"You can't...I can't...the tires are already replaced."

"But I didn't _need_ them replaced. I just wanted a goddamn oil change."

 _This is all my fault_ I think and then remember my argument with Ponyboy. _Actually, a lot of things are lately._

I twist the phone cord around my fingers and lean up against the wall. "I'm sorry. I'll do the oil change for free."

"Bullshit," the woman curses into the phone. Then she hangs up, just like Ponyboy had that night.

I hang up too, the phone barely making it back onto the wall with my shaking hands. I can see Steve at the counter with a customer, watching me wearily. The glint in his eye tells me he's still mad about what I'd said. And I don't blame him.

I glance at the clock, wishing I hadn't taken my lunch break so early. Because right now sure seems like a damn good time to get out of here.

…

Ponyboy POV

I arrive at the bar on foot. From a distance I can see Clarke leaning heavily on Smith, obviously drunk. I smirk not expected any less from him. Lowell just looks puzzled, scratching his head and examining Smith's car.

"I swear. I just got it fixed. I got all of this fixed." I can hear Smith marvel as I rear in. Clarke laughs drunkenly.

I slow to a jog when I approach them, breathing heavily and panting from the run that had been longer than I thought it would. I grumble a sarcastic ode to Lowell for making me run.

Shocked, I realize the situation. The driver's window on Smith's car had been busted open. Broken glass covered the seat and steering wheel.

I turn on Lowell. "You weren't kidding."

He grunts. "Glad you could make it, Curtis. Please tell me you called Aunt Bea."

"Yeah I did" I say, chewing my lip, my hands at my side as I examine Smith's car. "She was thrilled to have the night to herself." And she had been. No one says anything so I continue to ramble. "But I'm guessing we're not goin to a movie."

"No shee-it," Clarke drawls, pushing away from Smith and attempting to stand on his own but stumbling onto the back of Smith's car. "We ain't got a ride. It's…" he yawns, draping himself across the rear window. "Absolutely totaled."

Smith steps forwards and nudges Clarke's limp foot with his knee. "Like you."

Clarke guffaws. "I am _not,_ you son of a bitch." He rolls his eyes at me and swirls his finger around his ear. "Crazy, this one. Stay away Curtis."

I meet Smith's eyes, smiling. "Sure."

"Guys," Lowell interrupts, frowning as he reaches his hand through the hole in the window and searches around. "I think we have bigger problems right now than Clarke's inability to stay sober. Though he should work on that. I think we got robbed."

Smith snorts. "Yeah. Ok. Or maybe some douche likes to go around, breakin people's car windows for kicks."

Lowell frowns at Smith's insensitivity to the situation. He rolls his eyes. "Hey, it's my car."

My attention is suddenly drawn away from their inane bickering and dragged to the window of the bar. Sitting alone at a table is a man I vaguely recognize. I squint but can't put my finger on him.

He shifts in his seat and looks outside. Straight at me. My nerves are shot. I jump, tripping and nearly landing on Clarke.

He's The Man from the dream.

Clarke knees me away from him. "And they say _I'm_ drunk." In a daze, I look back towards the window but The Man is facing the other way. In my mind, I make a mental picture of his face.

 _Shit shit shit shit shit shit._

"So are you on that Curtis?"

I cock my head to the side, not realizing Lowell had been anxiously giving me instructions. My heart is still racing. "Huh?"

He forces two dimes into my hand and nods towards the payphone behind me. "Call the fuzz."

I look down at the dimes he'd handed me thoughtfully. That didn't seem like such a good idea to me given the current situation. I can just picture my brothers calling the Miami Police Department all the way from Tulsa and asking, _So do you have any records with a Ponyboy Curtis?_ And if they hear that Smith's car had been robbed...I'd be on the next bus to Tulsa on orders from the horse's mouth.

"We don't have any proof that someone robbed us. Maybe something just...hit it." I opine.

"He's got a point," Smith quips, now leaning on the hood and lighting a cigarette. Clarke reaches up for one and he complies, giving the smoke to his dangling arm.

He lights it, looking up at the sky dreamily. "I ain't about to get involved with the cops" he mumbles incoherently. "I think...I think they're onto me."

"For what you shit?" Smith grills. Clarke just grins and laughs.

Lowell rubs his temples, the action and his worry lines resembling Darry's all too much. I feel a pang. Darry and Soda. If they could see this, I'd be chained to a wall for sure.

"Don't call the fuzz," I say finally, feeling guilty that I'd dragged my own problems into this. But desperate, too. "They can't do anything anyways."

Lowell grunts. Smith sighs, examining his broken car window.

"I seriously just got this damn thing fixed." he gripes.

…

 _Review for a cookie!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Forgive me for not updating...I hit a roadblock. I know exactly how I want this story to end, getting there is the problem._

 _This chapter is painstakingly short. You'll have to deal with that, I wanted to add more but couldn't._

…

Ponyboy POV

We end up driving around Miami with a plastic bag duct taped over Smith's window and a loss of dignity. Lowell had thankfully spun a tale to Beatrice about a baseball smashing the window...and lucky for us she'd bought into it. I think she'd believe Lowell if he told her there had been a wild crocodile encounter.

Unfortunately we get a lot pitying glances at Smith's car with only one window. It almost makes me sick for home because I know Soda could have it fixed in twenty minutes.

"I think it looks kind of tuff," Smith chides as a group of kids pass by and laugh to themselves at the poor repair job on the car.

"Sure, if you call not being able to see out of the driver's window tuff. We're gonna get pulled over man." Clarke retorts. Once again he's draped over the back of Smith's car.

"No we ain't. Have you ever seen the fuzz around since we've been here?"

"True true, my man."

And he's right. I'd thought that in a big city like Miami, the fuzz would be around every corner just waiting for a crime to happen. But I hardly see anyone there as people run red lights and cut each other off.

I swallow, not wanting to think about the more severe things the police might have to worry about.

Dropping the subject of being pulled over, Smith returns to himself and silently gripes to himself over the loss of his car window.

I meet eyes with Lowell, who rolls his eyes at me in reference to Smith. He hadn't been too worked up over the accident until Clarke had cleverly brought up the matter explaining it to his parents.

"I'm hot," Clarke erupts suddenly, stomping out his cigarette on the boiling sidewalk. We'd been standing around outside of a drug store after buying smokes, sodas, and thanks to Clarke, skin mags. " _Real_ hot."

Lowell snorts. "It's goddamned Florida."

Clarke begins fanning himself off melodramatically, though I can see the sweat beading up on his forehead. I'm sizzling too; we've been in Miami for a while but it still wasn't enough to get used to the Florida heat.

Smith pipes up, suddenly recovering from his patch of self pity "Shit, let's go to the beach. We're in Miami and we haven't seen the ocean yet."

"True," Lowell compromises. He puts his hand up over his eyes as a visor as if finally realizing the true heat. "Hell, ok."

And that's when suddenly I feel nervous. Or maybe, nerves disguised as the guilt that had been following me around this whole trip. Two years ago Soda had offered to take me to the beach with him. But money and time never allowed.

It felt wrong to be going without him, but I guess right now I didn't really have a choice.

I flash a smile. "Sounds like a plan."

We all pile into Smith's car, Clarke in the driver's seat. The plastic bag taped to the window flaps in the wind as we drive on.

…

 _Please do me a favor and review! To help me get over this terrible writer's block._

 _I appreciate all prior reviews very much._


	14. Chapter 14

_I haven't been able to update as much as I normally do because I am trying desperately to get into something at school. First I got my big, fat REJECTED letter in the mail. Now I'm being stubborn and appealing. I have to beg on my knees before my teachers for letters of recommendation. Sooo therefore this story has been moved to the back burner in my priorites._

 _Hence my ramble, this chapter is a little rushed. But hopefully you enjoy, as always._

…

Ponyboy POV

The beach is crowded even though overcast clouds hang above. It's even worse than the zoo - different kinds of people cover every square inch. I see folks smoking things I didn't know was legal to smoke in public. Then again..in Miami they don't exactly give much thought to what you can and can't do. Smith's car is a prime example.

"One more couldn't hurt."

Those are Lowell's slurred words as he stands up on his toes, trying to get the cooler of beer from Clarke, but he has it high above his reach. Smith and I were both equally surprised to come back from the water to find Lowell drunk and not Clarke. It's an amusing sight, to say the least. Lowell never came off as someone to get wasted.

"Damn it. He was supposed to be our ride." Smith gripes. Clarke is having a field day, dancing around the sand while Lowell gropes his hand around blindly for the beer. I suppress a grin.

"We ought to keep him away from Beatrice till he's sober. She'll kill him" I reason, feeling some pity towards Lowell remembering the night I'd come home drunk only to face Darry.

But Smith looks at me like I just offered we go skinny dipping in the ocean. "And be that nice? Curtis, Lowell getting creamed by his aunt will be a fun show to watch."

Clarke whistles lowly, catching onto our conversation but still running around and holding the beer away from Lowell. "It most certainly will."

I sigh, hanging back, defeated. At least I'd tried to show a little mercy towards Lowell. It's not my fault Smith and Clarke - when combined - are about as cruel as they come.

We finally manage to wrangle Lowell into the car. I end up having to take the wheel since Lowell can't and no one else wants to.

Before pulling out I take one look back at the beach. The odd thing is I don't really feel bad for going without Soda anymore. I haven't really worried about what my brothers would think of anything since the incident with Smith's car at all. I smile; I like the feeling of not caring.

…

Darry POV

"Crack me a beer." Two-Bit demands stomping through the door, still without Steve. I wait for a reaction but Soda remains stoic as he slides a drink across the table towards Two-Bit, who pops it open and nearly guzzles it all down in one. "Thanks."

He leans back in his chair and watches us. Having learned from his last visit, Two-Bit is unusually quiet while he sits at our table downing bottle after bottle. Surprisingly it's Soda who spikes the conversation. He'd been too quiet too, this past week. Everything had been almost silent.

"Ponyboy's birthday is in a couple of days." he quips smoothly, settling at the table across from Two-Bit.

Two-Bit nearly chokes on his beer. I plop down next to him, almost knocking over the chair. I'm just shocked that he would bring up anything related to Ponyboy. "Yeah...it is."

Sodapop looks at me, as though my reply should have been obvious. "Well are we gonna do somthin?"

I'm at a loss for words but thankfully Two-Bit covers my ass. "Why the hell not?" he ventures. I send him a grateful look because I sure as hell didn't know what to say to that.

"Good." Then Soda focuses on his hands, not quite meeting Two-Bit's or my gazes. He needs Pony here. Hell, so do I. But the problem is, Pony doesn't know it, nor does he _want_ to be here.

I remember Soda talking about how he thought he'd driven Pony out. At the time that had seemed crazily impossible to me. He'd always loved it here. But maybe it was all of us who'd made him leave. The gang had always been Ponyboy's protectors. We just missed the part where he grew up and didn't need protecting anymore..

Not able to take this much thinking, I stand up abruptly and begin pounding around in the kitchen, hastily trying to throw together something edible.

Soda frowns at the sight. "Dar...Don't worry. He'll be back."

"I know." I hope so. But maybe he found something in Miami we didn't have here...or vice versa.

"Let's call him."

I grunt. "That ended in disaster last time."

"Then have Two-Bit do it. Pony'll talk to Two-Bit." I see Two-Bit chew on his lip and Soda sends him a sideways glance. "He's not his brother after all."

...

Ponyboy POV

The phone rings. We've been back from the beach for several hours, lazing around on Beatrice's couch, drinking and talking. It feels nice to have booze in my system again. Relaxing, almost. I've gotten used to it by now; I don't get so riled up anymore.

The phone drones again. This time Lowell stands up. "I got it," he says coolly to the rest of us, snatching the receiver out of it's place on the wall.

He only listens for a few seconds before his face turns up into a smile. "Oh yeah. He's right here." Lowell dangles the phone out in front of him towards me. _It's for you_ he mouths.

My stomach drops. My brothers. I haven't talked to them in more than a week, and I feel guilty about the last phone call I'd made...though I haven't exactly busted my ass to get a hold of them. I think regretfully about the letter I'd attempted to write to them, lost and forgotten in the trash.

I get up, grabbing the receiver from Lowell. "Uh, thanks." I say awkwardly, not really wanting to take the call.

Lowell doesn't catch onto this. His face curls up in a twisted smile, still drunk. "Better hurry up. Sounds urgent."

I gulp, not being one hundred percent sober myself and unsure of what to say. I wind the phone cord around the wall into the kitchen before I say anything.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ponyboy," It's Two-Bit. Thank God. He out of anyone at home understands being drunk the most.

"Hi" I mumble for lack of anything else to say. I squeeze my eyes close and silently count to ten, willing myself to pull back together. Why couldn't I act normal around the gang anymore? Normally I'd blame it on the beer in my system, but I know I can't this time.

"How's Miami?"

"Great. So far." I feel inclined to add the last part.

He doesn't waste any time with small talk, not even to crack a joke. "Soo your birthday...is in a few days."

"Oh yeah." Truthfully I had completely forgotten. I hadn't been thinking about myself to much - or me that I knew from Tulsa. _Tulsa Ponyboy_ and _Miami Ponyboy_ were two completely different people, I'd realized.

"I'll mail you a cake," is Two-Bit's feeble attempt at humor. I frown, something must be going on if even Two-Bit can't stand to be funny.

"I'd appreciate that."

He sighs. "Actually...Soda just wanted me to call you and say-"

"I'm not coming home." I interrupt suddenly, feeling the need to get that out there.

I can almost see Two-Bit chewing on his lip, pondering what to say to my outburst. It takes him a few seconds. "No. Of course not...Soda just wanted me to call you and tell you he says happy birthday."

"Why the hell can't he tell me himself?" I demand, the drinks I'd had that afternoon taking their toll. Immediately I regret having them.

"He's busy."

But I can tell by the hesitation in his voice that Two-Bit's lying. It's stupid but I almost feel like crying. Soda won't talk to me. He can't even call me.

"Ponyboy?" Two-Bit presses when I don't say anything. "Have...you been drinking?" I smile weakly. He knows me too well. He cares just as much as my brothers do about me. He might as well be my brother.

"You can tell him I say hi too." I sigh and hang up.

…

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _Please review :)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry for so few updates! Like I said - my life is hectic._

 _Enjoy this long, Ponyboy-centric chapter ;)_

…

Ponyboy POV

It's inevitable: birthday celebrations are in order. That morning I wake up to a splash of cold water and Clarke standing over me, whooping loudly.

"Guess what today is!" he yells, getting up close to my face. I shrink away, forcing myself into a sitting position.

"Tuesday," I reply with meager enthusiasm. But Clarke won't have it. Still persisting, he grabs my shoulders and jostles me around. If I wasn't awake before I sure am now.

"Naw, Curtis, it's your birthday."

Shit. That's _today?_ In a flash I'm thinking of Darry and Soda and what they must be doing right now. Do they even _remember_ what today is?

But I don't have much time to wallow in my pool of self pity because Clarke has managed to drag me out of bed. "C'mon, you only get your birthday once a year. I remember when _I_ turned seventeen, Curtis...one of the best years of my life, I'm telling you."

"You still _are_ seventeen, Clarke." I remind him groggily. He grins at me.

"Exactly."

 _Seventeen._ I smile. That's not as grand as it is for me as it is for Darry - only one more year of putting up with me and then he's free. I'll be eighteen...an adult, out of his custody. But I know he'll still stay tied to me just like he is to Soda. We're his, and nobody else's.

For a split second I feel guilty for not being at home, but like always it passes.

"These do-hickey's showed up in the mailbox," Clarke exclaims, shoving four envelopes into my chest. He locks eyes with them and winks. "You got a girl, Curtis?"

I feel my face turn red. Clarke may be seventeen, but sometimes he acts like he's thirteen instead. "What do you think?"

"I think yes" he says, his face deadly serious. I sigh and examine the letters. The return addresses are all the same: _Tulsa, Oklahoma._

I plop back down on the bed onto the damp sheets, and look up at Clarke. "Do you think I could read these?"

"Yeah, sure go ahead." he says without making the effort to move.

"In private, Clarke."

A sly grin finds it's way to his face. I sigh again, and he retorts immediately with another childish remark. "Hey! I get it, alright? I'll leave, don't worry. I know love letters are meant to be read in private."

Then he finally exits, the door slamming loudly behind him.

I can't help but roll my eyes as I finger to find the first letter. I tear open the envelope; immediately I can tell by the slanted, almost illegible print that it's from Two-Bit.

 _Pony,_

 _Hey, kid. Happy birthday. Like I said, I'd send you a cake for this lavish event, but unfortunately the amount of stamps it would take to mail such a thing is way beyond my budget at the moment._

 _So now that you're all seventeen and grown, I guess that means it's only one more year until you can finally give Darry a break. Trust me, he needs it. While you've been gone it's all he talks about...how much he wants you out. It's getting annoying for all of us, Pony, so do us a favor and get your ass back here?_

 _I'm just kidding of course. Shit kid, I have no filter without you. I need you here to keep me from saying something I might regret._

 _So come back soon, ok? If not for your sake for mine. Your brother's too. They miss you, kid._

 _Two-Bit_

I swallow back the sour taste in my mouth. Two-Bit's dry attempts at humor couldn't fool me. I know him well enough to know that something must have happened. _Are Darry And Soda Ok?_ A feeling builds up in my chest: that's all I need to know. I fight the urge to jump up and grab the phone to call back home.

But I can't...not yet. I grab for the next letter and rip away the envelope - it's Darry's.

 _Ponyboy,_

 _Happy birthday kiddo. Seventeen years old and you're still just as difficult as you were when you were fourteen. It sure ain't the same without you here. You could almost says it's peaceful._

 _Whatever the hell you're thinking over there, I miss you Pony. I haven't gotten the chance to really say that. If you left because you thought I didn't want you here, think again, little buddy,_

 _Do me a favor. When you write Soda, tell him you're ok, and really make him believe it. He's been out of control, rambling about how this was all his fault. He thinks he drove you out. Just bring him a little peace of mind, ok?_

 _And get your ass back to Tulsa, Ponyboy. This is where you belong whether you like it or not._

 _Darry_

I frown. Darry could never be subtle. _He thinks he drove you out._

I stop for a moment, letting the letter fall from my hands onto the bed. Why _did_ I leave? I left because Clarke showed up at my window and told me to pack my bags. But why didn't I say no?

My mind flashes to the argument I'd had with Soda. I hadn't meant half of what I'd said; so why had I said it?

I was angry. I was frustrated that Darry had caught me coming home drunk, and that Soda was disappointed. And I was mad at myself for letting it happen.

I pick up the letter again, Darry's writing suddenly loopy and p surreal. I had been selfish for thinking my brothers wouldn't care if I was gone.

I stuff the paper back into it's envelope and pick up the next one. It's Soda's. My stomach does a somersault.

 _Ponyboy,_

 _How's Miami? You'd better be having the time of your life for all it's worth. I expect stories: just to be sure that you weren't so drunk you forgot everything._

 _Happy seventeenth; it's a good year. I guess I can't blame you too much for running off to Florida. When I was your age, I would've too. But I have grown wise with my years, as you know._

 _That's a joke of course. I'd go to Miami anyday._

 _We miss you. It sure is quiet...nothing interesting goes on without you here, stirring up trouble. I'm bored, so please come back and put some entertainment into my life again._

 _Sodapop_

Soda's vagueness in his letter surprises me, but I don't know why. Obviously if he's driving himself into hysterics he isn't going to come out and say it.

I read his letter over again, closely this time, deciphering every word. It sounds forced, like he sat there for hours writing one sentence at a time. He's hiding something from me. It hurts; I almost wish he'd filled his letter begging me to come back home.

Before I can reign in any self control I tear the letter down the middle and let the pieces fall to the floor. That's not from Soda. Someone else had written that letter.

I still have the final envelope: Steve's. I pick it up and tear it open.

 _Kid,_

 _Happy birthday._

 _But you need to get your shit together and get your ass back home. Seriously, Soda's driving himself crazy, which is driving Darry crazy, which is driving all of us crazy. Are you not seeing this goddamned domino effect?_

 _I'm sure you have your reasons for leaving, but whatever the hell they may be, the reasons to hurry the hell up back home are way more important. You have a family here kid. And they care about you, you lucky ass, so don't be selfish. Come home and give your brothers a little peace of mind, it's the least you can do._

 _Steve_

I'm taken aback. Way to be blatant. Steve's handwriting is rushed, filling in less than half of the page. But even though it's short, the letter leaves me with an empty feeling inside, letting me know I'd really messed up this time.

I stand up abruptly, banging open the bedroom door only to find myself face to face with Beatrice. She grins, looking tired at the same time. I guess living in an apartment with three boys does that to a person. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

"Thanks," I say hurriedly, my heart pounding. "Can I...can I use your phone?"

"Sure thing."

I ignore Smith and Lowell's groggy _happy birthday's_ they give me as the eat dry cereal straight out of the box at the table. I grab for the phone and dial my number urgently.

The phone rings three times. I silently count the seconds away in my head, almost hearing my own heart pounding through my shirt. Finally someone picks up.

"Hello?" It's Soda.

"Oh thank god," I breath. "Hi, Soda."

…

 _Please review! Give it a whirl if you haven't before, ask anyone, it's fun._

 _Keeps me occupied while I wait to see if my appeal gets accepted. (fingers crossed)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Ok, so not my best chapter, but I've edited it so much I don't think it's going to get any better than this._

 _Thanks for all your reviews and good-luck-wishes. I got in! Special thanks to anyone who crossed their fingers ;)_

 _Enjoy_

 _..._

Soda POV

It seems somehow my mishaps of last week have been swept under the rug. On Tuesday I show up at work and Steve is back to silently giving me the cold shoulder, just like he had been all week.

This morning's phone call with Ponyboy still hangs on me. He had told me that he planned coming home soon; he didn't tell me why: but he sounded anxious to get here. I had tried to grill more information out of him but he'd hung up before I could ask.

The call had left me nervous but relieved at the same time. Relieved; knowing this was almost over, nervous that I couldn't help my brother.

Darry hadn't even said anything when I hung up the phone and booked it out of the house, faster than normal. At first I was relieved at having skipped a questioning, but I knew he'd be on me later for what Ponyboy had said. I just don't know what I'll say.

I don't think Darry realizes that he isn't fourteen anymore. Hell, now he's seventeen; but it leaves me wondering, _Was I this difficult?_

I find Steve in the back bent over a red Ford when I approach him. At first he's so focused on his work he doesn't realize I'm there, but as soon as I clear my throat exaggeratedly he jumps and spins around.

"Jesus Soda," he huffs, catching himself on the palm of his hand, trying not to let on he's embarrassed. "Don't you knock?"

I stare up at the empty frame dividing the garage from the counter. "There's no door." I know Steve is annoyed by my witty remark but I almost feel relieved. For the first time since Ponyboy left, something feels normal.

Having captured his full attention, Steve sighs, putting down his wrench and residing to sitting on his ass. "What?"

Having nothing planned to say, I blurt the first thing that comes to my head. "It's Ponyboy's birthday today."

I'm cursing myself at Steve's strange look. "I know."

"Well it is," I mumble. There's a silence between us. Frustrated, I realize there's been too much awkward quiet lately.

Finally I remember what I had really come to say; "I don't know. I'm sorry I guess. For...you know."

He knows alright. Nobody might have said anything, but the reason behind the tension between us is no secret; except maybe from Darry and Two-Bit. Steve presses his lips together. I look at him intently, but he doesn't make a move to say anything.

Anxious, I grab a screwdriver from the bench near him and twirl the tip into my finger. "Steve?" I ask, just to be sure he's still conscious.

He smiles at me suddenly. _And there we go._ "Yeah...ok, Soda. It's fine."

I blanch with guilt, but also relief. I hadn't expected it to be so... _easy._ No punches thrown. "It is not. I shouldn't've said that."

"But you were right."

"Shut the hell up Steve."

He dismisses me with a shake of his head and turns back to the Ford. It feels like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders: Steve and I are on speaking terms again.

For a moment, I'm so relieved that for one blissful flash I can forget about the phone call.

…

Darry POV

That afternoon I stop by the DX to pick Soda up from work. He's already outside when I get there, talking by Steve's car with the window rolled down. From what I can see they're blabbing like nothing happened.

I park the car out front and roll down my own window, the chatter outside of the DX leaking into my car. "Come on Soda!" I holler.

Soda's head jerks up. Seeing me, he shoots me a thumbs up and gives Steve a quick goodbye before sprinting over. He ducks into the car and immediately turns up the radio, bypassing three songs before he stops on the sports station. It strikes me as odd. I know that Soda doesn't care about sports but I'm thankful for the background noise.

"Hey Dar."

"How was work?"

Sodapop looks out the window at the tangle of people moving through the parking lot. At this point it's hard to tell the customers from the employees. I see the ghost of a real, true smile on Soda's face through the rearview window. "Great."

I start the engine and peel out of the DX parking lot. I make an attempt at conversation between the two of us, which had been awkward lately.

"What did Ponyboy have to say last night?" Luckily during the phone call there had been no yelling or slamming of things this time.

Soda shrugs. "Not much. Just checking in. Sayin hi. I wished him a happy birthday."

I look at him closer. "Is that all?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

He puts on a fake toothy grin. His face is strained. "I promise, Dar. Would I ever lie to you?"

I almost feel the need to check to make sure his fingers aren't crossed behind his back. Sodapop never acts so vague. I look away from him and focus back onto the road, frowning. "Yes. He said something, didn't he?"

From the corner of my eye I can see Soda's face fall. "Jesus, Darry, you don't have to run a goddamn interrogation. It was just a conversation; that's all. I swear."

But it's an impulse. I need more answers. I need to know my brother is ok. "But was he upset? Drunk maybe?"

"Not drunk." Soda frowns and wrinkles his nose like the suggestion was crazy.

"Don't act dumb, Soda. You know it's damn possible cause it ain't the first time." I grunt, making an abrupt halt as we come to a stop sign.

"Oh so I guess he's drunk all the time now, huh?" a hysteric sounding laugh escapes his lips, and I know what's about to come out has been waiting for weeks. "Cause well the hell else would he call us if he wasn't drunk!"

"That's not what I'm saying" I mutter flatly, but Soda's not buying it.

"Oh but it's exactly what you're saying, Dar. Trust me I know. Ever since our brother left all you can focus on is getting him home and wringin the shit out of his neck."

 _So much for a conversation,_ I think. Right now, I want to take Soda and wring _his_ neck, but instead I stay silent hoping that he'll stop. But it just opens up for him to keep on going.

"But don't you ever stop and think about why the hell he left in the first place? Or what he's thinkin? Because I know I played a part in it, _I know!_ But _you. Did. too."_ In his outrage he throws his hands up. "Shit, Darry, we all did!"

I want to yell and scream back at him but I can't, because I know what he's saying is right. All I can muster up is; "Soda, shut the hell up or you'll walk home." And just for good measure, "I mean it."

"No, no I'll do you the favor and do it myself Darry. Stop the goddamn car."

At this point I can only comply. I put my foot on the break and pull the car over to the side of the road. My heart is racing. I'm frustrated with myself, unable to own up to the fact that Soda is right. I watch as he climbs out of the car. He stands there, just staring at me. I know he won't move until I do.

So I drive away. When I'm down the road I look back, but Soda isn't anywhere in sight. I slam my fist down on the steering wheel, sounding the horn and causing several other cars to honk at me.

"Shit."

…

 _And the drama just evolves._

 _Just out of sheer curiosity...what general age do you think I am. I am very intrigued._

 _Please review!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Ok. Fast update. I went on a tiny bit of a writing spree...and this is my longest chapter EVER._

 _Thanks for all your reviews on the last chapter! Enjoy this one._

 _WARNING: Major cliffhanger. ;)))_

 _..._

It's clear to me I'm not getting past my birthday without some sort of excursion. That night, Smith insists I go to a bar with him, just the two of us.

"Not the same one," I say, skeptical when he proposes the idea. I can't say no again after I'd denied him the last time too. " _Please_ tell me you found another one."

We're sitting on the steps outside Beatrice's apartment. Cars fly past on the main road. Smith grins at me. "Course, Curtis. They don't even know our names. Not yet anyways. But they will when we're done there."

I sigh, already knowing this is a horrible idea. "Just make me drive, ok? So I don't get too drunk."

His smile turns up into a mischievous smirk. "Sure. But no promises. Somethin tells me we'll both be walking."

…

The bar we go to is barely visible from the main road. There's a neon green "open" sign in the window, even though it doesn't look open to me. When we go inside hardly anyone is there.

Smith settles himself right onto one of the stools like he's in his own house and I can't do anything but follow. A man in his thirties is behind the counter, looking bored and tired as Smith slaps a few bills into his hand. "Two beers." he orders. The bartender complies, not even bothering to ask for an ID.

The whole environment is making me feel apprehensive. I can tell there's someone else a few seats down from Smith and I, but I don't bother to look up afraid of making eye contact with the wrong person. It smells like beer and smoke everywhere. If only Darry and Soda could see this, they'd flip their shit.

"So Curtis," I turn back to Smith as he slides a beer towards me and leans back in his stool with two legs on the ground and two in the air. "How's it feel?"

I look down into my beer. "How does what feel?"

"I dunno. All this shit. Being away from your brothers. You didn't tell them you were leavin, did you?"

The sudden change of topic surprises me. I shake my head, feeling somewhat ashamed. "No."

Smith cocks his head, looking at me in a knowing way. I feel uncomfortable under his stare. It's like he's reading my mind. "So does being in Miami feel as liberating as you thought it would?"

I pick up the beer this time and gulp down some, then put back down on the counter with a heavy bang. "Hell no. I've felt like shit this whole trip. I fought with Soda before I left. Darry too, when I came home drunk. I...I've been such an asshole to them."

My hands start to shake. I put them in my lap, not wanting Smith to see. What's been boiling up inside me for the past two weeks is finally spilling out, at a bar where I'm bound to get drunk, no less. It's a recipe for disaster.

Smith grins. I can tell this is exactly what he wanted. I feel stupid for falling into his trap. "You fought with _Soda?"_ he marvels with disbelief.

"Yes," I mutter, burying my face in my hands.

"You're a hot mess, you know that Curtis?"

"Too well."

Smith has finished off his first beer. He beckons to the bartender to bring him another, and accepts it gleefully before taking a huge chug from it. I can tell by the end of the night he'll be totally wasted. "Curtis. Sometimes I dream about my parents."

 _Well that was sudden._ I can't think of anything to say, so I take a drink from my own beer and watch him intently. Smith is still leaning back in the stool, looking completely calm. I eye him apprehensively, afraid he'll fall and crack his head open.

Smith accepts the silence and continues. "They fight. A lot. But they never get a divorce, the stubborn asses." he laughs bitterly.

It's weird, seeing a whole new side to Smith other than Clarke's obnoxious sidekick. He looks different. His features hardened, but he's still completely calm.

I decide finally to say something. "Uh...why not?"

"Because they don't goddamn realize it. But everyone else does. It's _bad,_ Curtis. Real bad." he pauses.

"In the dream they're hitting me. They team up against me and just beat me. But I dunno. They're not... _them."_ This time Smith drops his heads into his hands, and for a long moment he stays like that.

I can't think of anything I could possibly say to comfort him. I look down into my beer again.

"It's a load of shit." Smith mumbles.

"Trust me," I guffaw. This time the words come easily to me. "I know."

…

Eventually I lose count of the drinks I've had. I can tell Smith has too. He's been going on for an hour, babbling nonsense that can only make sense to him. The bartender seems to be watching us with interest. I'm sure he witnesses a lot of drunk people, working here all day.

"Curtis," Smith slurs, burping loudly. "I can't drive."

 _No shit._ "It's ok. I will. I'm fine." I'm not.

"Are you sure? Because we can walk. I'm fine with walkin. I think...I need some fresh air. So do you wanna walk instead?"

Before I can answer a police car whizzes by outside, its siren blaring. The walls of the bar flash red and blue. People look up from their drinks, their gazes drawn towards the window. But as the sound fades away conversation resumes.

I look at Smith. He'd had his question answered for him. "Oh. Ok. Never mind. You'll drive?"

I sure hope so. "Yeah. I told you."

Smith digs into his pocket and slaps the a tip down where we had been sitting. "Great. Let's blow this joint."

As we leave, I take one last look behind me and catch a glimpse of who else had been sitting at the bar with us. I can only see the back of his head, but right away I can tell who he is. He's The Man from the dream.

My stomach turns nervously. I hurry up and follow Smith back to his car.

…

Even though it's a Tuesday night, Miami never sleeps, and I'm terrified of driving while being even the slightest bit drunk. I press down hard on the break at every stop sign. More than once, cars blare their horns at me for driving too slow. But I ignore them; it's like I'm living in a dream. My mind is still reeling with the thought of seeing The Man.

"Curtis, are you _sure_ you're ok," Smith drawls from next to me. He's slumped over in the passenger seat with his hand hanging out the window. A breeze comes through my window too, Smith having taken the bag off. The whole car reeks of the beer we'd drank. "I can drive if you want. I'm fine now."

"No damn way," I mutter. I just have to get back to Beatrice's. But which way is the apartment? Did I take the wrong turn?

"Actually...let's just stop." I opine, pulling the car into the parking lot of a run-down drug store. The building is dark and overgrown and looks like it's been that way for awhile.

Smith flashes me a grin, his face lit up by the street lights. "You think they'll find us here?"

"Nope. We're safe." I turn off the engine. The car dies down and nothing is left but silence and the hum of the road behind us. My mind is still buzzing from the alcohol.

 _We're safe._ I sure as hell don't feel safe. Why hadn't I said no when Smith offered to take me out? I should've gone home right after I got those letters from the gang. I'm being selfish and I know it. I think of my brothers back at home, doing who-knows-what, and then about me: about to fall asleep in a broken car in the middle of Miami. It's almost laughable.

I realize I should call Lowell and Clarke. Just to let them know we don't plan on coming back tonight. "Smith," I whisper. "Do you have a quarter?"

No answer. I wait a moment… "Smith?" Still nothing. Panicked, my drunk mind cooks up the worst case scenario - that Smith is dead. "Smith!" I jerk my head to the side.

He's only asleep.

"Oh, God." Now I'm _alone_ in a broken car in Miami. "Smith!" I yell again, leaning over the stick shift to shake him awake. He snorts, interrupted from his sleep.

"What the hell, man?"

"I need to know if you have a quarter," I say, my voice shaky. I had forgotten what I was going to do with the money in the first place, but I needed an excuse for waking him up besides _I was scared_.

But Smith's eyes are looking someplace else. They're gazing over my shoulder, out the window. "Curtis." he grunts through his teeth. "Don't. Turn. Around."

Of course, I do. At sight at what's outside the window, I nearly scream.

The Man from the bar is there, just like I had seen him in the dream. He smells like alcohol and his eyes are wild. I know right away he's drunk, which only makes the fact that he's pointing the barrel of a gun through the open window even worse.

"Shit!" is my uncontrolled first reaction. Smith tries shushing me but I'm out of control, trying to push the car door open in escape. The Man just jams it shut with the weight of his body and sticks the gun through the window, letting the cool barrel rest on my shoulder.

"I need the car," he grunts. "Now."

My first thought is _the car is my only way back to Tulsa._ If we didn't have it, I'd be stuck here in Miami a lot longer than I had planned.

Smith voices this for me. "No way man!" I would've been supportive of his argument if it wasn't for the gun pointed at me. I can't take my eyes off it.

Oddly enough I'm not scared. The booze has started to kick into my system at just the right time, causing me to be strangely calm and glad I'm not on the road like this. I turn to face The Man.

"It's a nice car, I know right? But the thing is you're sticking your arm through a broken window. Maybe you'd want to steal a car _without_ a broken window?"

Smith guffaws at my remark. This only makes The Man angrier, he presses the gun barrel into my arm, harder. I can't help but wince. Smith recoils. "I really do hate smart asses." The Man grumbles. "And it looks like you two are a pair of em."

I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that this is just a dream and that I'll wake up in Beatrice's apartment. But I know that this time it's not. I try to squirm away from The Man and his gun, but this time he grabs my wrist to hold me still.

The sound of police sirens flood into the car, and I think: _I'm saved._ The Man gets a panicked look on his face, but it only lasts for a split second before the harsh façade is back. "Get _out_ of this car."

"I have rightful ownership to this car." Smith quips. I wish he'd just shut up. I shoot him a look, and he shoots me one back: _I got this._ "Actually, my parents do, and they'd be pretty pissed if they saw you tryin to hijack it. And believe me, _when my parents get pissed off…_ it ain't a pleasant experience for anyone involved."

The police sirens are getting closer. _Hurry up hurry up hurry up._ Once again The Man shoves the barrel of the gun into my shoulder, just a reminder for Smith to shut his trap. "You know what won't be a pleasant experience? When I pull this trigger."

Smith snaps his jaw shut, and this time he gives me a _Sorry, I tried_ gaze. I think of Darry and Soda. For the first time in weeks, I wish they were here.

The sirens are loud now. The Man looks furious, his dark eyes glaring. "You have until I get to _one._ Three...two…"

The police cars pass by in a flash of red and blue colors. Then they're gone. They hadn't been coming for The Man at all. He looks thrilled.

"Well...looks like it's my lucky day." he says with a malicious grin.

"Yeah. Now you won't need our car since you obviously have time to run." Smith croaks.

"Oh, I still need the car. Looks like I'll just be getting it the hard way."

The Man lets go of my wrist. For a split second I think he'll let us go. But he pulls the trigger instead.

The impact of the bullet hits me instantly. The _bang_ makes Smith jump. It takes him a second to comprehend what's going on, but in an instant his hand is covering the wound. Warm blood is already spilling out onto the car seat.

For some reason, I think of Dally Winston crumpling under the street lights with that stupid, empty gun.

Smith is yelling. " _Holy shit!"_

I scream, loud. It hurts like hell. Then I catch a look at The Man's face. It's stricken: this isn't what he'd had planned for his great car jacking.

The last thing I see before I conk out is The Man running like hell down the road, the gun still in his hand.

…

 _So I really wasn't sure about this. The 'climax' I had planned before seemed to far-fetched...is this too far-fetched also? Please let me know._

 _Hey, how about some nice long reviews for this nice long chapter, huh? ;)_


	18. Chapter 18

_In honor of FriYAY I am giving you all the immense pleasure of an update…so puh-leeze review!_

 _This is sort of a filler chapter. Oh well. Hopefully it's interesting. ;)_

…

 _Ponyboy POV_

 _Everything is hazy. Vaguely I can see two figures in front of me standing face to face. To me it looks like they're talking to each other, but I don't even trust my own brain._ Man _, is my drowsy thought._ that's a new low even for me.

 _I step forwards, my knees shaky, and realize where I am._

 _The parking lot near the run-down drug store in Miami. I can finally depict who the two figures are: Sodapop and The Man. He's holding a gun square between my brother's eyes. As soon as I step into sight, they both turn and look at me. Soda's terrified. The Man looks pleased at this new fear he's sparked in my brother ._

 _Realization of the situation hits me like a steam roller. Sodapop is scared. I've seen my brother as a lot of things, but never this. Never_ this _afraid._

" _What did I tell you?" The Man asks nonchalantly. He might've been discussing the weather instead of pointing the muzzle of a gun at my brother's head. My throat tightens with anger. I stay back at a distance, knowing if I get any closer to The Man I'd actually strangle him to his death for doing such a thing to Soda._ " _I bet you wish you'd gone home now." The Man taunts._

 _I do. I wish I'd never left in the first place. Darry was right: I belonged in Tulsa. But seeing Soda; his eyes wide and scared, sucked everything out of me. I'm useless._

 _When The Man sees I'm not going to say anything, he just chuckles and fiddles around the trigger with his middle finger. I keep an eye on his hand apprehensively. One tiny movement meant my brother's life._

 _Suddenly I feel desperate for someone,_ anyone _to help me. Darry was preferable, but at this point I'd even take Clarke._

 _Finally I find the will to speak. "You bastard," I spit at The Man, barely louder than a whisper. He just shrugs._

" _Yeah. I get that a lot."_

 _I don't deny it, just glare at him. Thoughts build up in my head about The Man; holding my brother captive right in front of my face. Thoughts that would earn me a few shocked glances if I ever said them out loud._

 _Instead I settle for the standard: "Go to hell." But it's not an empty threat. I mean it, but it slides right off The Man._

" _Ponyboy." Soda breaths, drawing my attention towards him. My anger melts into guilt. It's a relief hearing him talk...But I can't look at him without being taken over by regret. Somehow I know this is my fault. "Go back to Miami but find Darry and I as soon as you can." he whispers, as if The Man isn't right next to him and can't hear everything. His raspy voice sounds rushed._

" _Um…"_

 _I watch as The Man twists the gun around on my brother's forehead and he grimaces in agony. I replay the words in my head. 'Find Darry and I as soon as you can.' Why couldn't I go back to them_ right now?

 _Soda says it again, his voice tight. "Only when you're ready Pony. Only when you're one hundred percent, you hear me?" The Man grunts. Obviously Sodapop is taking too long. "Just hurry a little, ok?"_

" _I can!" I yell. My voice is hoarse. I choke, about to break down into tears. "Just...give me...a second…"_

 _Soda smirks at me. He looks strangely calm all of a sudden. I don't know how he could be, with a gun on his head and all. "Don't jump the gun, Pony. You already failed at that." Then he frowns. "Sorry. That ain't funny."_

" _I don't get it." I say truthfully, Soda's calmness calming me down too._

 _Soda's about to say something, but The Man interrupts. Anger erupts inside of me at the thought of that bastard cutting my brother off. "You will soon enough. Go on. Get your ass out of here, I don't wanna see it."_

 _I feel like adding,_ Just don't shoot my brother, _but all of the sudden both The Man and Soda fade away._

 _Sodapop. I try to run after them but I can't move. I scream-_

"Curtis. Shhh. Oh god. Oh god. Please. Be quiet."

In my daze, Smith's panicked voice swirls through my head. I wonder what's wrong?

Soda. Where's Soda? A voice in my head tells me that Soda's dead: shot by The Man.

 _He'sgoneandit'sallyourfault._

"Shut up." I croak suddenly with a dry voice. Smith looks at me strangely.

"Curtis…-what?"

I can't help but laugh.I stop abruptly, noticing how hysterical I sound, then laugh again. It's not that anything is funny, but because everything right now seems so _stupid._ I feel paralyzed. Who the hell was that helping? Certainly not me. Soda's not here either. Maybe if I could move, I could find him.

Yup. Everything right now was just _stupid._ It seems to be the only word my brain knows.

Somehow in my hysteria I notice Smith and I have switched seats. Smith is driving through Miami, cutting red lights and keeping his hand clamped tightly over my left shoulder, which is numb...

"Where's Soda?" I implore, looking innocently at Smith. He stares back at me, open mouthed and shocked, but not answering my question. We sit in silence for a few moments.

"You should...really…be paying attention...to the road?" I tell him in short spurts, ignoring the way my voice cracks. Why is my head pounding?

"Shit Curtis. Oh my _god._ This is my fault." Smith mutters, turning back to the road. I vaguely hear my name but somehow I know he's not talking to me.

"So where's Soda?" I ask again, hoping I'm not harping on the topic. It's really starting to get to me that he's not answering my question. I _need_ to know. Right now, all my life depends on is whether or not Soda is ok. "It's kind of…"

Stars cloud my vision. Everything in front of me is eclipsed in black. I slump back in the seat.

"Hang in there." I hear Smith mumble. "Hang in there. I promise. I...oh _god._ Shit. Oh god."

But I can't remember anything anymore. Why am I in Smith's car in the first place?

His words echoed in my head as I fade farther and farther away from him: _Hang in there hang in there hang in there…_

For what?

…

 _I'm not a doctor, but I remember vaguely someone telling me that if a person is in really intense pain, they'll go into a state of shock. I don't know if that can still be relative after the person passes out, but if not...oh well! Go easy on me ;)_

 _And also...only a few more chapters to go! Thank you all very much for sticking with me throughout this crazy story..._

 _Reviews, pleeease!_


	19. Chapter 19

_Good lord, I hope this story isn't dragging. I swear it's almost done._

 _An update to get it out of the way! I have tests galore and a disturbingly off-schedule field hockey scrimmage tournament coming up...so here you go…_

 _Please review!_

 _..._

Soda POV

I don't go home until five AM. Worst of all, I'm drunk. So much for "cooling off" I guess.

I stumble inside, surprised to find that all the lights are turned off. Darry is nowhere in sight. Two years earlier he would've been sitting in his chair; waiting vigil for hours for me to come home. I feel guilty. He must've trusted me to come back on my own accord; and sober, probably.

In my drunken haze, I sink onto the couch. The sun is just starting to cut through the blinds. What the hell had I been thinking?

I had been angry when I had those beers. But I'm not angry anymore. I loll over on one side...just tired. If Darry came out and started yelling his head off at me, I think I'd just lay here, ignoring him. I grin at the image I get thinking about that.

I feel myself starting to doze off. I have to go to work soon. Funny, it feels like I was _just there…_

Before I can fully fall asleep, the lights snap on. I groan, knowing it's Darry. I'm in deep shit now.

"Soda? Are you home?" Oddly enough he sounds more confused than angry.

No use lying now. "You bet.

Silence. Then, "Well...are you ok?"

 _Why doesn't he just yell already?_ My heart thuds as I think: maybe I've worn him out. Maybe Ponyboy and I have sucked all the urge to yell out of him. We really wrung him down… "I'm fine."

"Where were you?" There's no edge to his voice like there usually is.

 _I went to a bar and got absolutely wasted, just like Ponyboy did. So you can start with the yelling performance as soon as you're ready. Three...two...one…action!_

"Oh you know" I mumble, opting away from the sarcastic remark. Just then something possesses me to laugh. "Actually...no you don't…"

Darry comes into view, his hair tousled letting me know that he'd just rolled out of bed. He snags a hand through it with worry, His eyebrows are furrowed together in concern. I feel sorry for waking him up; nobody had been getting much sleep lately.

"You're right." he says tightly. " I _don't_ know with you Soda, I haven't for awhile…"

Even though I'm drunk I catch onto the worry I'm causing him. "I'm fine Dar. I told you."

"No. No. I've been so worried about Ponyboy...with those...friends of his."

I smirk. "So worried that you forgot about me."

He smiles wanly. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Apology accepted." Even though he didn't really have to apologize...my mind had been caught on Pony too lately.

Darry sighs, sinking into his arm chair across from me. "Listen. You were right: half of this is my fault. I'm sorry, Soda. I know off of this is rough and that you blame yourself for all of this but you can't-" he stops, wrinkling his nose. _Shit._ "Is that beer?"

I find myself giggling, the booze taking effect again, I push myself further into the couch. "Maybe."

Darry bends forwards and rubs his temples. "Oh _god_ Soda…"

"What's wrong, Dar?" I ask innocently. Darry doesn't meet eyes with me.

"First Ponyboy...now you...I obviously made some sort of mistake. In _all_ of this."

 _Crap._ I know he wishes dad were here right now. He'd have this sorted out better than any of us could. Despite being drunk, I try to muster up some words of comfort. "No you didn't. You're...well you're _awesome_ Darry." I slur, twisting around on the couch.

Darry looks up, his face lit up by the meager sunlight. Part of a true but rare grin curls up on his face. "Thanks, Sodapop." I can tell he means it.

I stretch my arms and legs over the length of the couch. The booze is already catching up to me, making me tired.

"Sure thing." I mumble, finally letting myself nod off. Work would have to wait.

…

Ponyboy POV

"Curtis?"

Voices fly in and out of my head, but I can barely understand any of them. All I can think of right now is The Man and Soda…where are they?

"Can you hear me?"

 _Yes,_ I think. I don't know where I am now. It feels like three seconds ago I was in the parking lot of that old drugstore.

"Go get a nurse."

I flinch at the word _nurse._ I have always hated hospitals. Suddenly I'm aware of the throbbing pain in my shoulder. The shock makes my eyes flutter open. I'm surrounded by white and the blurry-edged figures of three people.

 _Oh, yeah._

My head rushes. It's all coming back to me. I remember pulling into the parking lot with Smith...and then The Man. _Shit._ The image of him sprinting down the street for his life is burned permanently into my brain. I can't stop picturing it.

"Thank god!" I know that's Smith. He bends down to meet me eye level. I stay silent, my brain still buzzing with confusion. "You're not dead!"

 _Obviously,_ I think, annoyed. Right now I just want to be at home with Soda and Darry. But now that the night before is coming back to me I know it's impossible. I grimace; by now I just want all of this to be over with so that I can get back to my brothers.

"I feel like shit." I grumble.

Smith frowns, a hint of guilt on his face. "I figured. God, Curtis, I'm so sorry…"

Ignoring him, I push myself up in the bed. My head pounds, figures blurring as stars dance in my vision. Images of Clarke and Lowell become more clear, looking shocked at my sudden ability to move.

"Sit the hell down Curtis," Clarke hisses at me. A nurse rounds in behind him with a clipboard, expressionless as he checks things off on my stats.

 _So this IS a hospital,_ The thought clicks with me even though I already knew. The reality of the man before me who looks to be in his 30s tells me that this isn't a dream.

"I heard noise. Is everything-" he catches a look of me upright in bed and his eyes widen. "Oh. Good."

"Is gonna be he ok?" Lowell asks anxiously, talking for the first time since I'd woken up. He meets my eyes; his are wide and scared. Somehow I know it's not for my wellbeing but for the ass kicking he may or may not receive from Darry.

The nurse walks over to my bed, checking the various needles poked into my arms. They make me feel dizzy just looking at them, so I keep my eyes locked on Smith's relieved face. I can only imagine what he's feeling right now.

"Well...looking at this.." the nurse drawls, checking his clipboard again. "The gunshot hit the soft tissue, injuring the deltoid…" he pauses for a moment, and the wary looks of my friends tell me the same thing: _That doesn't sound good._ The snap of the nurse's clipboard echoes through the room.

"But other than a scar, he'll be fine."

I'm overcome with relief. I'd go back to Darry and Soda injured; but not crippled. I feel myself grin for the first time in awhile.

"Thank the _lord,"_ Clarke exclaims loudly, shooting me a thumbs up. "Here that Curtis? You're gonna be a-okay."

A wane smile crosses my face. "Glad to know I'm not losing an arm."

"Well; good luck." The nurse taps an invisible watch as he turns to leave. "Visiting hours are almost over, boys.."

"Sure. Ok." Lowell mumbles, shutting the door behind him. I know they won't be leaving anytime soon.

After I assume the nurse is out of hearing range, I ask, "So do my brothers know?"

Lowell looks to Clarke, who looks to Smith. The expressions on their faces tell me they're waiting for one another to say something. Their anxious glances answer my question for me. "You didn't _tell_ them?"

Stepping forward, Smith shrugs, looking embarrassed. "Time was tight."

I lean back into the sheets, rubbing my temple with my good hand. Clarke smirks at me. "But since you're all well and good; I guess maybe _you_ can let them know about this...little mishap...now."

…

 _So yes, as I said before, puh-LEEZE review. You've all been so awesome with them. Sorry I didn't send replies last time around._


	20. Chapter 20

_This chapter is eh. But I don't know, I think people might appreciate it._

 _I'm currently at my field hockey extravaganza so all of this is pre-written. I feel like a robot ;)_

 _..._

The gang is gathered around the coffee table. We're all invested in a game of Monopoly and to the surprise of everyone; Two-Bit is winning.

"I told y'all I was smart," he brags with a grin. Steve rolls his eyes.

Soda snorts. "It's Monopoly Two-Bit. Smart ain't got nothing to do with it."

"You just don't get it." Two-Bit says with a smirk as he collects Soda's money for trespassing on his property.

"Soda doesn't get a lot of things" Steve pipes up, causing Soda to flip him off. I roll my eyes at their antics.

Around 5 o'clock that night, the phone rings. Soda jumps up to get it. He's been in a shocking good mood ever since our conversation this morning. I think everyone notices the change in his attitude but no one says anything. A cheerful Soda is always welcome.

"Lo?" he says into the receiver. A grin spreads across his face. "Oh, hi Ponyboy."

My head jerks to the side as he mentions Pony's name. Steve and Two-Bit look up in surprise too.

But in a split second, Soda's wide grin is gone. _So much for a cheerful Soda._ He chews his lip anxiously and all I can think is: _What did Ponyboy do now?_ "Woah woah woah Pony. Calm down. What happened again?"

There is silence as Ponyboy talks. I watch as Soda's face melts. Filled with a sudden desperation to talk to my brother, I stand up abruptly. Soda's eyes follow me. Then he makes a sound between a choke and a whimper. "Shit! Are you ok?"

That was all it took. Unable to contain myself any longer, I rip the phone from my worried brother's hand. "Hello? Ponyboy? What the hell is going on!"

Soda takes a shaky step to the side. Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and they sink down onto the couch, talking to one another in a low monotone.

"Oh. Darry.." Ponyboy says weakly.

"What's wrong?" I demand.

"About that.." his voice trails, only increasing my worry. I have to take a breath to keep from punching a hole in the wall. "There was this _accident.."_

"Shit. I _knew_ this would happen. Goddamnit Ponyboy."

"No. No! It was sort of my fault in the first place. No one else got hurt."

That doesn't make me feel any better. "You're hurt?" I lean up against the wall, Soda's worried face turned on me.

"Just a little" Ponyboy squeaks, sounding 10 again. In the background someone laughs and quips, " _Way to beat around the bush Curtis."_

"Just tell me," I grumble, some of my anger diminished. I feel terrified for my brother now. How could the day turn from good to bad so quickly?

"Well...it's actually a long story. Keeping it short and sweet: someone tried to carjack Smith and I. With a gun." A hysterical laugh escapes his mouth.

"Oh _god,"_ I mumble, my stomach churning. I feel sick. Squeezing my eyes closed, I repeat a phrase over and over in my head: _this isn't happening this isn't happening._ "Please tell me he didn't…"

Ponyboy whimpers. "He did. But don't worry, Dar, it was only my shoulder."

I laugh; it comes out sounding high and offkey. _Don't worry Dar...it was only my shoulder…_

"If it makes you feel any better," he mumbles, not accepting my silence. "I'll be home by Friday."

Something snaps inside of me. I never should've let him leave this house in the first place. "Damn it Pony. This is all my fault."

"No it's not Dar. You couldn't've stopped me." he says firmly and I know he means it.

I sigh heavily. "Just get your ass home."

"Sure thing, Darry." he says before hanging up. And even though I can't see him I know he has a cocky grin on his face. Seeing the gang's worried faces: I can tell that they know something is wrong. My stomach flips.

"Darry?" Soda asks tightly. I drop into the armchair.

"He got himself shot." I croak. Quiet ensues.

"Damn it." Steve marvels after a while, breaking the silence. " _Shit."_ Soda kicks his leg with his shoe and he shuts his mouth; sending me an apologetic glance.

The room is tense. Not even Two-Bit can crack a joke. Instead he says, "The kid'll be fine." more to reassure himself than anyone else. "He's tough."

"And he'll be home by Friday." I inform them wryly. "He better be."

…

 _I'm not so sure. What do you think? I was super anxious about writing his brother's reactions so I hope I did this justice. I decided to throw the gang in there too...hope they're all in character..._

 _Wrapping this up soon._

 _Please leave reviews!_


	21. Chapter 21

_This chapter isn't as long as I'd like it to be, but alas, here it is._

 _Thank you all very much for reviewing the last one :) Keep them coming!_

…

Ponyboy POV

"Here sweetie, take this."

Beatrice forces a bottle of aspirin into my hand. I look at it for a moment - thinking about how much Darry wouldn't approve - then look back to Beatrice. "Thanks." I murmur, pocketing the aspirin. I know it'll come in handy. The pain pills the hospital gave me weren't helping. Before I had left, a doctor who changed my bandages told me to expect pain; but I never could've imagined the constant throbbing I feel in my shoulder.

It's bright and early in the morning. I'm getting ready to leave. After being discharged from the hospital with strict orders to get rest, I had gone straight back to the apartment and packed my bag. I was done with Miami.

The guys are all out front of the apartment in the car; which is stuffed full and ready to go. I'm anxious to get home.

Beatrice looks over me guiltily. "I'm sorry it had to end like this for you."

 _She's talking like I'm dead._ I give a one-shouldered shrug. "It's ok. It's not your fault."

Outside, the car horn blares. I guess Clarke wants me to hurry up. Smiling wanly, Beatrice reaches behind her and hands me my bag. "Take care honey."

I stop at the door and turn around to face her. "You too." She looks sad; all alone in her apartment once again. _Maybe I'll send her a Christmas card._

…

By three that afternoon we're someplace in Georgia. Clarke has gotten out to refill the gas in the car and switch spots with Lowell, who will be driving. Smith is leaning up against the passenger door with me, fumbling around with the lock.

"What do you think your brothers will say?" he asks me with a grin. Ever since the night he took me out, we've been hanging around one another a lot more. I guess we both have something in common.

"I dunno," I shrug, being honest. "Darry sounded pretty pissed over the phone."

Smith's grin spreads wider across his face. "It'll only be better in person."

"Exactly."

We both hunch back in a comfortable silence. I can hear the scuffle inside the car as Clarke and Lowell scramble around. Lowell is switching into the driver's seat without actually getting out of the car.

There's a tap on the window we're leaning on. Smith and I both jump away to find Clarke with his face pressed up against the glass. "Get in!" he yells at us; his voice muffled inside the car.

Smith and I meet each other's eyes, then laugh. From the corner of my eye I can see that Clarke looks confused; but we're not laughing because anything is funny. We're just relieved that it's all over.

…

Next to me, Lowell is just about to doze off. Smith has the wheel and Clarke is next to him; struggling to light a cigarette. It's around 3AM and we're just arriving in Tulsa.

I have only been gone for a month but seeing everything over again makes it feel like years. I wonder about my brothers. What are they doing right now?

"Alright Curtis get out." I almost don't hear Clarke's dull, monotone voice as we pull up in front of my house. My chest starts to hammer in unison with my throbbing shoulder. Would they be awake this early?

I grab my bag shove open the door. Before heading into the house I stop by Smith's window. He looks as tired as I feel; pale with dark bags under his eyes. _If he looks like this,_ I think. _How do I look?_ I smile wryly at him, leaning my tired body onto my bag. "It was a fun time."

He musters up a tired grin back at me. "Let's go again next summer. Ok?"

"Ha ha." I glance back to my house, not wanting to go inside but knowing I have to. "See you."

Smith nods and guns the engine. "Bye." Then the car shoots away, rumbling down the street. The last thing I see when they turn away at the stop light is Clarke holding out his hand in a peace sign through the window. I roll my eyes.

I stumble in through the door, expecting to find the house dark and empty. But thankfully Darry's there, sitting in his chair with his newspaper. _Just like the night I got drunk and then came home._ I muse, comparing the two nights wryly.

My brother looks up to me. I expect him to smile or at least yell but he doesn't. He jumps up to his feet, dropping the newspaper on the chair and scooping me up in a hug. "Thank god."

I hug him back just as tight. He still smells like sawdust. "I missed you," I murmur into his shoulder, meaning it.

He pulls me back and examines me, as though I might've changed in the month I was gone. Which I realize I have. Then Darry grins full of relief. "You have no idea."

…

 _Phew. Ponyboy's finally out of Miami._

 _The next chapter will be the last!_

 _Thanks to all for sticking with me throughout this crazy story so far. It's almost over, don't worry. ;) One more to go!_

 _Puh-leeze review!_


	22. Chapter 22

_Ok. So this is the last chapter my friends. Sniff._

 _Thanks for all your reviews on the previous chapter! I'll write back to those soon. I need to finish my English homework-which I interrupted to publish this._

 _But, enjoy it!_

 _..._

Ponyboy POV

Soda waltzes around in the kitchen, balancing glasses of chocolate milk for him and Darry in both hands. I sigh at him and swing open the refrigerator to scan the contents. From his spot at the kitchen table Darry looks at me curiously.

"Hungry?"

"Yes," I say. Then, indecisive, I close the refrigerator. "I mean no. I dunno."

Soda bends down to rest the glasses of milk on the table and then turns to ruffle my hair. "So how's it feel to be back?" He's grinning but I don't mistake the dark bags under his eyes.

"Great." I grin, settling on orange juice. But the truth is I don't know what I'm _supposed_ to feel. I've only been back in Tulsa for a few hours. Everything - that night, the hospital, driving home - had happened too fast to seem real.

Never missing a beat, Soda catches onto my look of unease. "Don't worry. Darry and I missed you Pone." he wraps an arm around my shoulders. I almost spill the orange juice onto the floor but I let myself be pulled into him, choosing to ignore the increased throbbing in my shoulder.

Darry's up, pounding around the kitchen in search of something to eat. He stops to shake his head at Soda and me. "Knuckleheads…"he mutters.

The door bangs open just as Soda lets me go, ruffling my hair one more time just for good measure. I groan. Two-Bit and Steve come rolling in; Steve with a look of annoyance and Two-Bit wearing a grin. "We heard the kid was back in town!" Two-Bit yells.

"You heard right," Soda quips, grinning sideways at me. I roll my eyes but grin back. I should've known that my brothers wouldn't want to keep the news to themselves.

Steve grunts in my direction. "Well...welcome back." he mumbles without much enthusiasm.

I pull out a kitchen chair and settle into it. "Aw. Missed you too Steve."

Steve rolls his eyes and mutters " _Always a smartass"_ but I can sense the relief behind his façade of indifference. I smile. For the first time in a month, at least _something_ feels normal.

Two-Bit slides into the chair across from mine and starts firing questions at me. I answer them with surprising speed; some of my replies make Darry look over his shoulder and raise an eyebrow. But I don't stop grinning.

…

Soda POV

Work at the DX returns to normal. The next afternoon on my lunch break, I see Steve standing outside with Two-Bit. Confused, quietly I approach them.

"Two-Bit?" I question with a grin. He spins around seeing me. "Are you finally gettin a job?"

He smirks back. Then I notice the annoyed expression on Steve's face and get curious as to what's going on. "Nope Soda. But I _am_ here to collect money. Hand it over Steve." I watch as Steve sighs and passes a dollar bill into Two-Bit's hands. He accepts it gladly and laughs maniacally, almost seeming to forget I'm there. "See Stevie? This is why you should never bet on-" he stops suddenly and snaps his head around to look at me. "Oh."

Steve whistles lowly, his old smirk returning. " _Busted."_

"What bet?" I implore, furrowing my eyebrows.

Two-Bit shoots Steve a glance of begging for mercy but Steve doesn't take it. His mouth curls into a sly smile as Two-Bit recoils. "Two-Bit proposed a bet after the kid left. He said the kid would get his ass into some kind of trouble; I bet he'd stick to his saintly little self." He shrugs"I lost. Guess I had my expectations too high."

Two-Bit looks crestfallen. "You always have to ruin the fun."

Steve just rolls his eyes and looks at me hopefully - obviously wanting me to chew Two-Bit out for betting on my brother. I only shrug. I hadn't expected any less from Two-Bit; always seeking a way to money. "I'd have bet on it too Two-Bit."

His grin is fast to return. "See Steve?"

Steve gives me a look of disbelief. I wave him off: I was telling the truth. I had always known I couldn't hold onto my good little brother forever. "I'm just sorry you lost a buck to _him."_ I tell Steve.

Two-Bit seems not to hear my comment. He's too busy flaunting the win of the bet in Steve's face. "It's just a dollar. There's plenty more where that came from. At least I don't rely on making _my_ money through bets either." Steve grumbles, finally defending himself.

But nothing is going to drag Two-Bit down right now. He checks a non-existent watch on his wrist. "Well hasta la vista, y'all." He sticks the dollar into his pocket and dashes off down the street, arriving just as soon as he'd left.

…

Darry POV

I arrive home early from work, surprised to find Ponyboy alone and banging around in the kitchen trying to throw something together for dinner. I sniff the air. "Smells good," I greet him truthfully.

He jumps not expecting me to be home. When he sees it's me he grins. "Oh hey Dar. Look!" he holds up the pot he's cooking in so that I can see it. "It's pasta." Absentmindedly he reaches to grab a bottle of blue food coloring and squeezes a few drops into the food. I chuckle. Sodapop is rubbing off on him.

I drop my work gear onto the couch and resist the urge to plop down right next to it. Work had been a bitch today. I had a few socy co-workers who just couldn't seem to keep their mouths shut.

Ponyboy is spooning tangles of pasta onto plates when I approach him. He seems to be in a glowing good mood and I don't want to ruin it. But there's something I need to say to him. He smiles up at me when I come up next to him. "Yeah Darry?"

I exhale and lean my weight onto the counter. The way he's grinning at me unnerves me; Soda's words to me in the car a few nights ago unravel in my head. This was my fault. Ponyboy should be furious at me but he isn't. "I just-God I'm sorry Ponyboy." I choke. He stops with the pasta and looks at me with surprise.

His face turns confused in a matter of seconds. Frustrated I want to wipe that puzzled look right off his face, wishing he could just learn to blame somebody other than himself for once, but I take a deep breath and try to explain myself. It's never been one of my strong points. "I just feel bad that you left."

"Oh." Pony's green eyes dart away from mine and into his pot of pasta.

I wish I could bring that overjoyed grin back to his face. "I want you to know that I didn't mean anything I said that night." I tell him. It seems ages ago but he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Me either." he chokes. "I never should've left Dar. It was stupid."

 _Now that I can agree with._ "I know. You were always the stubborn one."

A flicker of a smile crosses his face. I clap him on the back-ready to call truce to our feud-but Soda comes bounding through the door. Seeing that something is cooking, he grins.

" _Please_ tell me you-" he spots the blue food coloring on the counter and his eyes light up. "Oh, Pone, you know me too well."

Ponyboy laughs. "I do." Then he shoots me a sideways grin to let me know that he forgives me.

…

Ponyboy POV

"Curtis. Watch."

I lower my Pepsi and watch as Clarke sneaks up on Smith and jumps onto his back. _Oh no._ I have a sudden flashback to their stunt at the zoo; except it was vice versa. Taken by surprise Smith yells and dumps Clarke onto the ground.

From his odd angle on the grass Clarke winks at me. "That is called payback." I don't bother to mention that the trick had ended in _Clarke_ on the ground as opposed to Smith.

Lowell comes up behind me, laughing at his friend's antics. He has a cigarette balanced between his teeth. He mumbles at me to move over so I scoot down the step so he can sit. Darry was at work and Soda was out with Steve. I was bored, so I had called up Smith, Lowell and Clarke and invited them over. Of course they came. It was my first time seeing them since Miami.

"I forgot to ask you," says Smith, sitting down on the step next to me after throwing a few choice words towards Clarke. He talks low so Lowell can't hear. "How does it feel?"

I remember Soda asking me a similar question. But this time I give Smith a truthful answer. "Oh. I dunno."

"Me either," Smith shields his eyes against the sun and takes a long drag on his smoke. He takes a deep breath and looks up. "Get this Curtis."

"What?"

A mischievous smile curves up on Smith's face as he turns back to face me. "My cousin just moved to San Francisco. I'll get the car fixed...and then-what do you say about next summer?"

…

 _I really hope I did that justice. I got all worried about getting it right so now I'm totally winging it and just putting it up._

 _I do plan on writing more stories. But I still have one full week left to school (groan) so at least give me till then to think of an idea. More or less. Eek._

 _Review! You have to, it's the last chapter ;)_


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